


A Star's Heart

by artenon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, First Time, Happy Ending, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, POV Alternating, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-29 11:11:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 31,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17202401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artenon/pseuds/artenon
Summary: There’s a myth that Kuroo has known since he was a child: that the power of a star can heal all ailments. Kenma has been afflicted by a mysterious illness since he was born. His time is running out, and Kuroo would do anything to save him, even chase a childhood fantasy.When Kuroo ventures beyond the mysterious Wall bordering his village in search of a fallen star, he never expects to find a magical world so very different from his own. And he definitely never expects to find that the star is a person, and one so beautiful.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (rating and tags are for the entire fic, not necessarily this chapter)
> 
> whew! this fic has been a long time coming. i mean, i first started planning it in 2015 and wrote about 5k words at that time. earlier this year, i came back to the idea, reworked a lot of the plot, and completely rewrote almost everything i wrote before. finally, at the tail end of december 2018, here we are! this fic is not _quite_ done (still needs some edits and revisions) but (!!!) my goal is to update once a day until the end of the year, so please stick around! :)
> 
> this fic is an AU inspired by the movie Stardust, but you don't need to have seen it to enjoy this fic! there are definitely a lot of elements and worldbuilding in my fic that aren't in the film.
> 
> now that all of that is out of the way, i hope you enjoy chapter 1!

Tetsurou drums his finger on the counter and stares intently at the clock hanging on the wall. The minute hand, with what seems to be considerable effort, lurches forward.

He turns to Yaku, who is leaning against the counter beside him. “Are you sure you wound the clock this morning?”

Yaku snorts and pushes himself away from the counter. “It’s running perfectly. You’re just impatient.”

“I’m a paragon of patience.”

Yaku ignores him and disappears into the kitchen in the back of the bakery. Probably to put some distance between himself and Tetsurou’s complaining, the jerk.

He sighs and turns back to the clock. The last ten minutes of his shift can’t pass fast enough, and there aren’t even any customers coming in to distract him.

They should just close earlier. The bakery is busiest in the morning when the building is delicious with the smell of fresh bread, with another rush in the afternoon when the little ones just let out of school beg their parents for cookies.

But there’s always those few who can’t come until late, who work all day for their living and don’t have anyone they can send on errands in their stead, so Yaku keeps the place open longer, makes sure to always have some spare loaves of bread waiting for them. Tetsurou’s even seen him give them some muffins on the house under the excuse that they’ll just go to waste anyway since no one else is coming in at this hour.

So. Yaku’s not a jerk at all, actually. But no one really is coming in anymore and Tetsurou is dying to go home. His hands itch for something to do, something to make the time pass by quicker. He would wipe the countertop, but he’s done it so many times already that if he didn’t know better, he would say there wasn’t any glass between him and the last of the pastries. He’s given the front of the display case the same treatment, and the wood floors have been swept clean of all dust, dirt, and crumbs.

Tetsurou may complain too much, but he won’t let it be said that he’s not an otherwise stellar employee.

By the time Yaku reemerges from the kitchen, the minute hand has dragged forward a grand total of two minutes. He’s holding a small white box, and Tetsurou can smell the apple pie inside. Kenma’s favorite.

“One slice, fresh from the oven,” Yaku says, handing it to Tetsurou. “You’d better get that to Kenma before it gets cold.”

Yaku’s way of showing affection to Tetsurou involves never doing anything nice for him, so he has a hard time believing that he’s reading his intentions right. “I still have eight minutes in my shift.”

“You know my pies taste best fresh, and I’d hate for Kenma to have any less than the best. My pride is on the line, here.”

Ah, of course: Kenma is the impetus. To that, Tetsurou can relate.

“You’re a big softy, Yaku, and I love you for it.” He pauses at the door. “Leaving early—that’s not going to cut into my pay, is it?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” Yaku smiles brightly and waves. “Give Kenma my regards.”

***

Eager to get back to Kenma, Tetsurou sets a brisk pace for home, but by the time he gets to the small house at the edge of the village, the setting sun has been swallowed by the horizon.

Kenma is in the family room, hunched over on the couch in a way that’s definitely not good for his posture and reading a book. Tetsurou recognizes the glossy green cover; it’s the mystery novel he’d picked up from the next town over just last week. He notes with dismay that Kenma is already over halfway through the thick tome.

“Hey, slow down,” Tetsurou says. “That book is brand new.”

Kenma looks up and tucks his long black hair behind his ear. “But it’s interesting.”

Tetsurou crosses over to the couch and rests a hand on top of Kenma’s head. His hair is dry and wiry under his fingers. Tetsurou swallows and drops his hand.

“Okay, but I won’t have anything else for you when you’ve finished.”

It’d be easier if Kenma liked to reread books. Tetsurou will reread his favorites until the covers fall off, but Kenma says it’s no fun when he already knows what’s going to happen. Which is fair, except it’s a real challenge to find new books when they live at the edge of nowhere. For lack of better options, Tetsurou is even writing a story for Kenma that he gives him chapter by chapter, a sprawling fantasy thing—he’s not sure he can call his amateur storytelling attempt a novel, but it keeps Kenma entertained, at least.

Still, he has no right to complain; Kenma is the one cooped up indoors all day, alone while Tetsurou works full-time.

Tetsurou sighs, rubs the back of his head. “Well, anyway, you doing okay? Did you eat okay? Get enough sleep last night?”

Kenma rolls his eyes. “I’m fine. I ate. You fuss too much.”

“Avoiding the question about sleep, I see.”

Tetsurou shakes his head in mock lament. Kenma always stays up atrociously late, which is saying something considering Tetsurou is a night owl himself. He doesn’t press the issue today, though; he knows in his heart it’s a lost cause and so he’ll only pester Kenma about it half the time.

He holds up the box from the bakery instead.

“How about some apple pie for dessert?”

Kenma doesn’t look excited, exactly, but Tetsurou can tell he’s happy by the way he sits up straight even as he says, “You get me pie every week.”

“Well, Yaku baked this one special for you.”

“He always ‘bakes it special for me.’”

“Alright, stop being contrary and accept the pie. Yaku let me off early just so you could have it fresh. Oh!” Tetsurou grins. “Speaking of fresh, if you’re feeling up to it, we should go outside for a bit. Fresh air is always good.”

“We can get that by opening the windows.”

“Cool, I’m glad we’ve come to an agreement.”

Tetsurou tugs on Kenma’s arm until he stands up. Kenma grumbles as he stands and as he sets his book open face-down on the couch. He grumbles all the way to the door. When they step outside, though, out of the musty little house and into where the day’s heat has broken into a crisp chill, Kenma tilts his face up, eyes closed, and breathes deeply in. Tetsurou settles his hand on the back of Kenma’s neck, warm under the curtain of his hair, and keeps it there for several seconds.

They hike up the hill behind their house and settle beneath a thick-trunked tree. Kenma eats two-thirds of his pie and Tetsurou finishes the rest. Tetsurou leans his back against the tree and lets Kenma rest his head on his lap and explain the book he’s reading.

“Her friend is kind of a coward. He doesn’t like her snooping around doing detective work. She doesn’t listen, of course. But anyway, I think she’ll figure it out, but the culprit will kill her before she can expose him.”

“What, seriously? You think the main character is going to die?”

“Yeah.”

“That sucks.”

“I guess.”

Kenma sits up, angling his body away from Tetsurou. When Tetsurou leans after him, Kenma tilts his chin down and his hair slips over his ears to obscure his face. Kenma brings a hand up and tugs at the end of the strands, curls it around his fingers while Tetsurou watches, silent. He wants to say something, but there’s something hard lodged in his throat and breathing is difficult and the silence stretches between them like taffy in suffocating summer heat.

Finally, Kenma says, “I’m probably not going to make it to your next birthday.”

Tetsurou digs his fingers into his leg, but the pressure does nothing to dull the spike in his heart. “You can’t—” He chokes on the words. “You can’t just say that so casually.”

Kenma shrugs. “I just wanted to let you know I already got your present. Don’t try looking for it, though. Yaku has it.”

It’s hard to move his jaw, make the words come out. “Why are you telling me this now? My birthday is ages away.”

Kenma says nothing and Tetsurou, throat too tight to say more, grabs his shoulder and forces him to turn and face him. Kenma meets his tear-brimmed eyes and breaks eye contact just as quickly. He rips up the grass by his feet, and he sounds choked himself when he finally replies.

“I’ve been getting worse, and I don’t know when—”

“Kenma,” he pleads.

Tetsurou isn’t a stranger to loss, but he is estranged from it. He lost his parents so long ago he can barely remember them, and Kenma’s parents… They’ve been missing for a long time, but in his heart he’s never been able to accept that they’re gone. Their bodies were never found, and missing doesn’t mean dead.

Anyway, he’ll never miss anyone as much as he would miss Kenma.

And Kenma acts so calmly about it, too. He’s been sickly since he was a child, and he’s only been getting worse in the past years. It’s not news. They both know what’s coming. But while Kenma may have come to terms with it, Tetsurou can’t. He can’t lose Kenma. Not him. Not his first friend, his best friend, the person he grew up with and loves more than anyone.

Anyone but him.

Kenma sighs and leans against him, and Tetsurou draws desperate comfort from his warmth and presence.

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath.

It’s okay. There’s still a chance for things to turn around. He has to believe that. He has to believe that things might get better still because—because—

Because there’s nothing he can _do_.

Kenma shifts and grabs his arm. “Look.”

Tetsurou opens his eyes and follows where Kenma is pointing.

“A falling star,” Kenma says.

He knows Kenma is just pointing it out because he’s trying to distract him, as if anything could distract him from the idea of _Kenma dying_ , but an idea worms into Tetsurou’s mind as he watches the star arc across the sky.

“Hey, Kenma,” he says, still staring at the sky, eyes running over and over the trail the star followed as the awful, wonderful, ridiculous idea roots firmly in his mind.

“What?”

“Stars have healing powers, right?” He turns, grinning. “Kenma, _Kenma_ , I can save you. I just have to find that fallen star.”

Kenma stares at him, eyes slowly going wide. “No. Are you even hearing yourself?”

“I’m hearing myself, are you hearing me? Because I can save you.”

“It’s a myth, Kuro. Stories my parents told us when we were kids. It’s not real. Besides, that star probably fell hundreds of miles away, and it was beyond the Wall. No one crosses the Wall.” Kenma hugs his arms around himself. “It’s not worth it.”

The Wall, the Wall, damn the Wall. They can see it from here on the hill, the high stone Wall that runs along the edge of the village and beyond, stretching as far as the eye can see in either direction. As far as the village is concerned, the Wall has been there forever, and no one knows who put it there, or why. Rumors abound, of course, usually about monsters residing on the other side. No one wants to actually go over and confirm.

Yeah, this is new territory, this is unknown, this is definitely going to be dangerous, but—

“Of course it’s worth it. It’s better than sitting here doing nothing. The doctors haven’t been able to help you. This might.”

“I don’t want you to leave.” Kenma’s voice is a rough whisper. His shoulders are tense and he swallows hard and Tetsurou has never seen him so scared. Maybe he’s thinking of his parents, who left a few years ago promising they would be back with help and never returned. Tetsurou never wanted to put Kenma through that again, but now, faced with this opportunity…

He has to go.

He settles his hands on Kenma’s shoulders, looks him directly in the eye. “If I have even the slightest chance of saving you, I’m going to do it.”

Kenma frowns and bites his lower lip, but he must realize he has no chance of convincing Tetsurou to change his mind, because he bows his head and says, “Just be careful.”

“Hey,” Tetsurou says softly.

Kenma raises his head again. Tetsurou presses his lips to his forehead and lingers, and Kenma exhales shakily.

He helps Kenma back to the house and hesitates at the threshold. He should leave as soon as possible.

“Take care of yourself, okay? I’ll be back soon.”

“You will be back soon,” Kenma says, half a statement and half a question.

Tetsurou hugs him. Kenma wraps his arms around him and pushes in close. Tetsurou tightens his hold and he never wants to leave him, but he has to. He has to leave _for_ him.

“I promise.”

Tetsurou lets him go.

***

He’s got to tell Yaku before he leaves. Yaku will have to find someone to cover for him at the bakery, and it wouldn’t be fair to just leave without warning. Plus, maybe this way Yaku won’t fire him; that would be nice.

He reconsiders his job security when he’s banging on Yaku’s door and realizing just how late it is. Well, it’s not really that late, especially not for a night owl like him, but many of the lights in the village are out, wooden sidewalks only visible by the wash of silver moonlight. And Yaku’s house is dark. He always turns in absurdly early so he can prepare fresh bread the next morning.

The door cracks open. “Th’ell you want?” Yaku leans against the doorframe, his eyes half-lidded and bleary. They widen when he recognizes Tetsurou, and he pulls the door all the way open. “Kuroo? Is everything alright? Is Kenma okay?”

“He’s fine.” Tetsurou shakes his head. “Actually, he’s not fine. He hasn’t been fine, and that’s why I have to do something. I just wanted to let you know I won’t be in for work for a couple weeks. Maybe longer, I don’t know.”

“What are you talking about? What are you planning?”

Tetsurou considers; Yaku is a good friend to him as well as Kenma. He’s also an excellent secret-keeper. See: the birthday present he’s apparently holding onto for Kenma. Tetsurou would never be able to finagle it out of him early.

“A star fell earlier, beyond the Wall. I’m going to get it.”

“Beyond the Wall?”

Tetsurou regrets mentioning that tidbit. Yaku takes a bare-footed step out the door, as if he intends to stop him somehow.

As if anyone could stop him now.

“You know the myth that stars have healing powers? I don’t care how long of a shot it is. If there’s any chance at all, I have to try.”

Yaku frowns, lower lip jutting out. Tetsurou clenches his fists, expecting protests and half-ready to turn and leave before he can hear them, but then Yaku nods and meets his gaze with a steady seriousness. “You’re really going. Wait right there.”

He turns back into his house, leaving the door open, and disappears down the hall to his bedroom. Tetsurou fidgets in place. Every moment he delays feels like a second wasted. But Yaku didn’t dismiss his plan. He’s even acting like it’s not completely ridiculous. It may be worth it to see what he wants.

Yaku only takes a couple minutes, probably, but to Tetsurou it feels as long as the agonizing minutes spent waiting for his shift to end at the bakery. But Yaku finally returns clutching a long black candle in one hand and a matchbox in the other. He holds both out to Tetsurou.

“This is a Babylon candle. It’ll take you anywhere you want when you light it.”

“Anywhere I w—you mean like magic?” Tetsurou’s fingers slacken around the items and Yaku pushes them more insistently into his hands.

“Yes, like magic.” Yaku scrunches his eyebrows. “What? You’re going after a magic star, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but stars are like… You know!” Tetsurou throws his arm up to the glittering night sky. “They’re all far away and mystical. This is a candle.”

He punches Tetsurou’s arm, light. “I’m trying to help you, so just trust me.”

“Yeah, okay, but where’d you even get this thing? Wait, don’t tell me—you’ve been to the other side!”

Though obvious in retrospect, the realization comes as a shock. There’s a break in the Wall that appeared one day a few years ago when they were teenagers—Kuroo remembers noticing it from his and Kenma’s usual perch on the hill—but anyone approaching it is flooded with apprehension, too consistently for it to be coincidence. Kids learned to stop playing near there soon enough.

But Yaku, sensible Yaku, crossed to the other side and came back?

Yaku rubs the back of his head. “Not far. There’s a village a couple miles out from the Wall. I know someone there.”

“Oh. Know someone, or _know_ someone?” Tetsurou waggles his eyebrows.

“Know someone, geez, do you want the candle or not?”

Tetsurou clutches it close to his chest. “Yes. Thank you, Yaku.”

“No problem.” Yaku crosses his arms, an uneasy frown on his face. “Actually, I should tell you… I actually got that candle from Kenma’s parents.”

That admission leaves Tetsurou speechless. When he does find words, the only one he manages to say is, “What?”

“I don’t know where they got it from, either. But one day, they caught me coming back from the other side—the break isn’t so far from your place, you know—and they gave it to me and told me how to use it. In case of emergency, they said. But, well, I haven’t been back over in years and I think they’d like you to have it now.”

Kenma’s parents have been to the other side? When? How many times? Is that where they went, the day they left and never came back? Tetsurou has so many questions but Yaku doesn’t have answers to give him. There’s no use wasting time on this right now.

“Thank you,” he says again, instead.

“Yeah,” Yaku says. His expression shifts, and his eyes dart away. He almost looks embarrassed. “If you, um, happen to go to that village and run into a guy named Lev, will you ask how he’s doing for me?”

Tetsurou can’t pass up the opportunity to tease. “Sure thing.”

“Wipe that smirk off your face.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Anyway,” Yaku says loudly, “the candle doesn’t work on this side of the Wall, so you’ll have to go over to the other side first. When you light it, think only about where you want to be, or it could go wrong. I think it only has one charge, so you can use it to get there, and then…”

“I’ll figure it out. Seriously, Yaku, thanks.”

“Yeah. I mean, I think it’s a fool’s errand, but if it’s for Kenma, I know there’s no stopping you. And I want to help him, too.”

“I know. You’ll check in on him while I’m gone, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

Tetsurou hugs him, pulls away, and hugs him again. “That second one was for Kenma. Make sure he gets it.”

Yaku waves him off, smiling. “Yeah, sure, you dork.” The smile slides off his face and settles into a soft frown. “Be careful out there.”

“I will.”

With a final wave, Tetsurou turns and starts walking. He doesn’t hear a door close behind him, meaning Yaku is watching him go, but he doesn’t look back.

***

The Wall looms before Tetsurou, layers of weathered stone stacked twice his height. Though his stomach is seized with apprehension, Tetsurou steps forward. The closer he gets, the stronger the feeling of dread grows. By the time he’s standing right in front of the break in the Wall, it almost feels like some physical force is pushing him back. Tetsurou digs his heels into the ground.

The break isn’t much wider than a person. Tetsurou squints ahead, not quite daring to stick his head through the gap. It’s too dark to make out many details but it looks unassuming enough, just open field as far as the eye can see, grass and tall weeds swaying in the night breeze.

It could maybe be ordinary, if the broken stones and surrounding ground weren’t scorched black, if the knots in his stomach weren’t tightening and tangling, if there wasn’t resistance pushing down on his shoulders where there should be open air.

A bead of sweat rolls down his neck. This place is wrong, and everything in him is screaming at him to turn back. Every other time he’s strayed a little too close to the Wall, he has. But this time is different. This time, he’s doing it for Kenma, and nothing in the world can stop him from crossing over.

No turning back.

He draws a deep breath and runs forward.

The moment he crosses over a weight lifts off his chest, the most oppressive of the dread bearing down on him dissolving away. He exhales slowly, a residual knot of apprehension in his stomach and his heart still pounding from the anticipation that something might happen the moment he crossed the threshold.

But everything looks the same, grass up to his ankles, and if he turns back, he can see the faint outline of some buildings in his village.

He holds the candle up and looks at it. The idea of a magic candle that can teleport him places still seems silly, but then again, so is a Wall that somehow makes people feel scared to go near it.

Anyway, he’s already decided that he’ll try anything if it means helping Kenma.

He strikes a match and brings it up to the candle, watches the wick catch the orange flame. He shakes the match out, closes his eyes, and thinks, _Take me to the fallen star, take me to the fallen star—_

***

Before Tetsurou even realizes that he’s falling, he’s landed. Landed on something soft, something that lets out a sharp cry of pain, and oh no, it’s a someone, he’s landed on someone.

“Oh my gosh, sorry!” he gasps. He rolls over and scrambles to his feet.

“Nice landing. I would say… zero out of ten.”

The stranger’s voice is outstandingly sour, and Tetsurou turns to apologize again, maybe feeling a little snippy himself because he didn’t know that was going to happen, okay, but when he sees the person he crash-landed on slowly rising to his feet, he can’t help the gasp that escapes his lips.

He’s beautiful. His skin is ghostly pale, not sickly like Kenma’s, but more like… ethereal. He’s wearing a dress, dirty and torn at the bottom, but still lovely, and made of finer material than Tetsurou has ever seen. It’s pure white and short-sleeved, covering from his torso to his knees and leaving his slender arms and legs exposed. His short hair is a pale gold and his pink lips are pulled into a tight line. There’s a pair of glasses with a thin gold wire frame perched on his nose, and, as Tetsurou stares, the person lifts his chin to peer down at him through them with honey-colored eyes.

“Sorry,” Tetsurou says again. He feels very out of place in his ratty old hand-me-down coat from Kenma’s dad. But he thinks he might feel out of place no matter what he’s wearing. This person just exudes… something. Something powerful.

The person says nothing. Tetsurou swallows.

“I didn’t mean to… fall on top of you like that. I’m looking for the fallen star? Hopefully it’s around here somewhere, anyway.”

The man narrows his eyes. “Fallen star?” he repeats slowly. “That’s me.”

What? Oh. Tetsurou’s brain gets stuck. “Did it hurt?” he asks. “When you fell from the heavens?”

He can hear Kenma groaning at him somewhere in the back of his head, but he’s too breathless to take it back.

But the fallen star just scowls and says, “Yes. I hurt my leg.”

“Oh.” Tetsurou looks down and sees the scraped knees, the trickle of blood running down his right leg. “I’m sorry.”

The star glares at him. “Why? Were you the one who made me fall?”

“Made you—what? No. How? What? I didn’t even know you were like… a person,” Tetsurou says, gesturing up and down the star’s—well, body. “Are you really a star?”

The star scoffs, but then his eyes lock on something Tetsurou hadn’t even realized was still in his hand.

“Is that a Babylon candle?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah!” Tetsurou looks at the candle, about half as tall as it was before he used it. It must have another charge on it after all. “Yeah, I used it to get here.”

This is perfect. Now they can get back right away and Kenma will be okay. Will he? Tetsurou’s stomach clenches, flipping between relief that his quest will be over much sooner than expected and trepidation because it can’t be this easy.

He almost doesn’t react in time when the star makes a lunge for the candle.

Tetsurou jerks his arm back, and the star stumbles, wincing when the movement puts pressure on his right leg.

“Hey!” Tetsurou says. “What gives?”

The star holds his hand out. “I can use that to get home.”

“Oh—uh, wait. I mean, no.” Tetsurou firms up his resolve. “I really have to take you with me. I need your powers.”

The star’s shoulders lock and he takes a step back. “I refuse.”

“That’s not an option.”

Tetsurou does feel a little bad, though, because the star is a person too—or looks like one, anyway. The point is, he’s sentient and he obviously wants to go home, and as much as Tetsurou wants to get back to Kenma as soon as possible, maybe they can compromise. After all, it’s probably easier to get back to his village than to the sky, or wherever it is up there that stars come from.

He looks around and takes stock of his surroundings for the first time since the magic candle dumped him here. Not much of note—they’re in a small clearing, forest surrounding them on all sides.

Looks like there’s nothing to do but pick a direction and walk.

“Okay,” he says to the star, “if you come with me, I’ll let you use the candle afterwards and you can go home.”

The star snorts. “I’m not going with you.”

A frustrated noise bubbles in his throat. He grabs the star’s arm.

The star flinches. “Let go!”

Ugh, he doesn’t like this either, but…

“No. I’m sorry, but I’m not leaving without you. I promise I’ll give you the candle after you help me, but we are getting back to my village whether you like it or not.” He tightens his grip. “I’ll carry you if I have to.”

The star’s eyes widen in disbelief, and they glare at each other for several seconds, until finally the star clicks his tongue and says, “Fine. I’ll walk.”

Tetsurou releases his wrist, though he keeps a close eye on him. “Good choice.” 

 

* * *

 

 

Kei isn’t happy, to put it mildly. Every time he puts weight on his right leg, pain lances through his knee. It hurts almost too much to stand, let alone walk over the uneven ground of the forest, but he limps forward without comment.

His captor walks a few steps ahead of him. Kei hates him. He keeps running his hand through his messy black hair and sighing loudly. His coat is a little too big for him and hangs awkwardly off his shoulders. Every once in a while, he glances back at Kei and worries his bottom lip with his teeth but doesn’t say anything.

Kei glares at his back when he turns away.

Finally, his captor breaks the silence. “So, you have healing powers?”

That’s a kind way of putting it. A star’s heart can heal the sick and dying, but that’s more of a side effect of the end goal: immortality.

“You could say that.”

“Yeah? Thank goodness.” The man turns back to him and smiles, open and easy. “My name’s Kuroo Tetsurou, by the way. What’s yours?”

Kei presses his lips together.

The smile drops off Kuroo’s face, and there’s something annoyingly sincere about his crestfallen expression.

He scowls. “Tsukishima Kei.”

“Tsukishima Kei?” A small smile resurfaces. “That’s a pretty name.”

“Thanks,” Kei deadpans.

He hates this. He hates feeling powerless. But he’s stranded. He’s miserable and weak and he can’t do anything.

Someone put him in this position. He knows the way he fell wasn’t natural. Someone ripped him out of the Court of Stars and pulled him down to earth. If it wasn’t Kuroo, then he’s not the only enemy Kei will have to look out for while he’s down here.

It’ll be okay, though. It will. He has a plan. Kuroo has no intention of leaving him alive, but he’s not killing him yet for some reason. Maybe he doesn’t know he needs his heart specifically; he did seem surprised by Kei’s manifested form on the Earthly Plane. Whatever the case, Kei is going to take advantage of the situation and steal the Babylon candle at the first opportunity.

“How far away is your village?” he asks.

“Er…” Kuroo takes a while before answering. “Kind of far, I think. I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure.”

“Well, I used the candle to get here, right? It’s not like I know how far it took me.”

“Do you even know which way you’re going?”

Kuroo’s silence answers for him.

“Unbelievable.”

“I’ll figure it out!” Kuroo throws Kei a sullen look, but the expression disappears when his eyes drop to Kei’s injured leg. He stops walking and shifts his feet. He scratches the back of his head. “Um, it’s getting dark, though, so maybe we can try to get some rest. Tomorrow, we can find a town and someone to give us directions.”

Kei doesn’t know why Kuroo is pitying him. He still wants to kill him in the end, so these small mercies like his faux friendliness and offers to rest mean nothing. Still, he’s not about to let this opportunity slip by.

“Okay.”

Kuroo seems almost surprised by Kei’s easy agreement, but he nods firmly and settles down on the ground at the base of a tree, pillowing his head on his arms. Kei sits a few feet away, leaning his back against a tree.

“Well… good night,” Kuroo says.

“Sleep well.”

“I’ll pretend you said that sincerely and not sarcastically.”

Kei is unable to help his smirk this time. “If that helps you sleep.”

Kuroo doesn’t dignify him with a response.

It doesn’t take as long as Kei thought it would for Kuroo to fall asleep, considering they’re totally vulnerable out in the wild. After just a few minutes of watching and waiting, Kuroo is still save for his breathing, deep and even.

Kei creeps closer.

The Babylon candle sticks out of Kuroo’s coat pocket. If he can just get it, he’s home free. He moves forward quiet, quiet. Kuroo doesn’t stir. Kei crouches down and reaches. His lungs freeze. He’s so close… almost there… He wraps his fingers around the candle and tugs it up.

Kuroo’s eyes flutter open. “Kenma? Are you—” He cuts off as his eyes sharpen into focus on Kei’s face.

Kei can’t move, the candle halfway out of Kuroo’s pocket, his breath stuck in his throat.

Kuroo jerks backwards, grabbing the candle and yanking it from Kei’s slackened grip. “You can’t—”

Kei pushes himself up to his feet and runs.

“Hey!” Kuroo yells.

Kuroo’s footfalls are heavy as he gives chase, and Kei blocks out the pain of his leg and runs as fast as he can. Even as he pushes forward, he realizes how pointless the effort is. He’s cold, injured, and miserable. The surrounding trees all look the same and seem to press closer toward him the further he goes. He has no idea where he is or where to go, and he’s not outrunning anyone like this.

Maybe he should just stop running and succumb to his fate.

As he thinks this, however, he feels a tug that starts in his chest and spreads through his whole body. It’s faint, but it feels promising and warm, and he instinctively alters his course to its direction. The feeling grows.

Kuroo yells again, but he sounds farther away, somehow. Kei continues to follow the feeling and soon he can’t hear Kuroo at all.

As Kei begins to think that he managed to escape, his foot catches on something and he sails towards the ground. He throws his arms out and lands on his hands and knees. The impact sends a jolt through his already injured knee, and he bites down a sob of pain.

He picks himself up, breathing raggedly, and carefully steps past the root he tripped over. The heels of his palms are all scratched up from trying to break his fall, little rocks embedded in the skin. His knees are scraped red and raw.

He hates this. He wants to go home.

The sensation that something warm is waiting for him at the other end amplifies. Kei has a foolish thought that maybe there's another star here that sensed his distress. It plants a seed of hope in his mind that he can't seem to get rid of and gives him the strength to limp forward.

It doesn’t feel like long at all before he emerges from the woods and sees the inn beside the dirt road. Free from the concealing trees, gentle moonlight bathes the land, and a warm yellow glow emanates from the single window at the front of the inn. Relief drains the adrenaline that carried him this far and sharp pain from his injuries floods in.

Kei drags himself to the door and knocks. It opens almost immediately.

The man at the door has carefully styled brown hair and warm eyes. He’s wearing a sweater that looks wonderfully cozy.

“Oh my, you must be freezing!” The man smiles and steps aside to make room for Kei. “Come in, come in.”

Kei peers into the inn. There’s a little table against the wall just inside the entrance hall. On it, a flower-filled vase sits atop a crocheted mat. Across the hall hangs a quilt with colorful, mismatched patterns. It’s charming.

He steps inside.

“I’m Oikawa Tooru.” The man shuts the door and extends a hand to Kei. “And you are?”

“Tsukishima Kei.” He declines to take Oikawa’s hand, lacing his fingers in front of him instead. “Are you the owner of this inn?”

Oikawa drops his hand, smile never wavering. “Yes, I am.” He beckons Kei further inside. “You look exhausted. Come, I’ll draw up a hot bath for you.”

That sounds incredibly tempting, but Kei can’t shake a sliver of unease. “I felt like something was drawing me here.”

“Oh, that’s my inn’s magic,” Oikawa says, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s enchanted to guide souls who are lost or in need. And you definitely look like you’re in need of some rest, poor thing.”

Kei twists his fingers together. He can’t seem to find the fire to protest Oikawa’s patronizing tones. Maybe it’s because the inn, with its soft yellow lights and colorful wall quilts, looks like a manifestation of the warm feelings that drew him here. It’s hard to resist.

“Well… A bath does sound nice.”

“But of course.”

Oikawa leads Kei to a secluded room at the back of the inn, empty save for a bathtub and a little stool set beside it. The bathtub is clean and white and stands supported by four clawed feet. It’s really nice and almost seems out of place in the quaint inn, but when Oikawa turns the faucet and the tub begins to fill with steaming water, Kei isn’t about to complain.

“Go on and make yourself comfortable.” Oikawa flashes him one last smile and whisks out of the room.

The bathroom door doesn’t have a lock. Kei hesitates, but he’s so tired and the bath looks so good and so he peels off his clothes, folds them neatly, and sets them on the stool. His glasses go on top.

Cautiously, he puts one foot in the tub. It’s piping hot and perfect. He steps in with his other foot and lowers his body into the water.

Kei exhales slowly and closes his eyes as he sinks deeper, tension seeping out of his body. But as he relaxes, he hears the door open, and he scrambles to sit up, trying in vain to cover himself.

“Now, there’s no need to be modest,” Oikawa says. He lifts Kei’s glasses, places the towel down on top of Kei’s clothes, and delicately sets the glasses back on top of the stack. “I noticed you limping, poor thing. Let me help you out.”

Kei curls in on himself. “Don’t,” he says, but Oikawa sticks his hand into the tub anyway and wraps long fingers around Kei’s calf.

Kei would protest violently if not for the instantaneous burst of warmth in his leg and the sight of the scrapes disappearing before his eyes.

“Oh,” Kei sighs as the pain dissipates into a warm tingling sensation.

“There, now that's better. Anywhere else?”

Silently, Kei holds out his hands, palms up. Oikawa clicks his tongue softly and wraps his fingers around Kei’s wrists. He rubs his thumbs gently over the injured areas, and Kei feels the same warmth spread over his palms.

“Thank you,” Kei mumbles.

Oikawa gives his hands a gentle squeeze before dropping them. Kei feels warm all over.

“No problem. You rest up and relax, and I'll have a hot meal waiting for you when you're finished.”

Kei has never eaten before, and he’s not sure he likes the idea of it, masticating food into a pulp and swallowing it and digesting it. But he knows he needs to eat as long as he’s in this form, and besides, Oikawa has been nothing but kind to him. He doesn’t want to be rude anymore.

He bows his head, shy. “Okay.”

He’s so lucky that he found this inn—or rather, that this inn found him. Oikawa welcomed him warmly, provided him with a hot bath, and now he’s preparing food for him. Kei feels safe and comfortable, and he feels the starlight in his chest start to perk up. He lifts his hand out of the water, marvels at the smooth skin that was scratched up just minutes before, and observes the faint shine outlining his fingers.

He's getting his powers back. Maybe he can stay here for a few days, recover his strength. And then maybe, just maybe, he’ll be able to figure out a way to get back home.

As long as Kuroo doesn’t find him first.

Kei shivers and sinks deeper into the bath. It’s okay. He got away. Kuroo won’t find him here.

He’s safe here.

***

Oikawa meets him in the hall after he’s finished his bath and steers him to the dining room. He sits Kei down with his back to the kitchen door and sets a steaming bowl of soup in front of him.

“Feeling better?”

“Much,” Kei says, his face warming by the heat rising from the soup. It smells amazing, and he finds himself eager to taste it despite himself. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem.”

Oikawa smiles, and Kei ducks his head and lifts his spoon to his mouth.

It’s delicious.

“How can I repay you?” Kei asks, worried as he realizes that he has no possessions save the clothes on his back. “I have no money—”

“Don’t you worry about that. I can tell you’ve been through a lot, and you can stay here as long as you’d like to get back on your feet.”

Kei’s starlight grows stronger, and he wishes he had the words to properly express his gratitude. “Thank you. I won’t bother you long.”

“Of course. Now hold on, I’m just going to get something from the kitchen. I won’t be a moment.” Oikawa waggles his fingers at him and he disappears behind Kei.

Kei takes a few more bites of soup before setting his spoon down. He hasn’t even finished half the bowl, but he feels full and content. Oikawa is so kind. It’s almost too good to be true.

He hears Oikawa’s approaching footsteps, and turns to tell him how good the soup is, but time seems to freeze when he sees Oikawa standing behind him holding a knife over his head.

Kei dives off the chair and onto the floor just as Oikawa’s arm swings down.

“What are you—?” Kei begins, but he knows.

He knows.

“Ah, but you were shining so beautifully just a moment ago,” Oikawa says. He’s still smiling, but it doesn’t look kind at all anymore. It’s sharp-edged like broken glass.

Kei’s heart sinks to his stomach. It _was_ too good to be true. Of course it was. Oikawa is no different from Kuroo.

Kei scrambles to his feet. All the warmth in the inn is gone. The lights are harsh, it’s biting cold, and he can’t believe he let himself be tricked. He should have known better.

“You’re cruel.”

“I’m doing what I have to,” Oikawa retorts. He dashes for Kei again.

Kei lifts his arms reflexively to block him, and the knife slices down his forearm. He cries out in pain and stumbles back until he hits the wall.

“Of course, I would have liked to get you while you were shining, but a star’s heart is always powerful.” Oikawa advances on him. “If you were shining, I could be immortal. As it is, I’ll probably maintain my youth for another few centuries, but that’s plenty of time to try again.”

Has he done this before? Kei feels sick and scared at the possibility that Oikawa may have killed others of his kin in the past, that this is easy for him.

His eyes dart around the room, but Oikawa has him cornered. Kei’s shoulders drop. Why did he even bother to put up a fight in the first place? He feels wrecked and betrayed; all that kindness had just been to prepare him for the slaughter. Had Kuroo been attempting the same? He’s a star, after all; his fate was sealed the moment he fell. It was just a matter of time.

But as he remembers Kuroo’s bright eyes and easy expressions, worn so naturally unlike Oikawa’s plastered-on smile, he can’t help but think there might have been more to him.

Oikawa raises his knife.

Kei squeezes his eyes shut.

He hears one bang, then another. “Tsukishima!”

Kei’s eyes fly open to see Kuroo burst into the room.

“Tsukishima!” he gasps again.

Oikawa whips around, and Kei takes the moment of distraction to kick him in the knee. Oikawa falls, clutching his leg and howling in pain, and Kei runs.

“Tsukishima!” Kuroo yells. “Wait up!”

“Please leave me alone!” Kei yells back, colliding into the front door of the inn in his haste.

His face is smarting, but he ignores it and tugs on the door. The knob turns but the door doesn’t budge.

Kuroo appears beside him. “Are you okay?”

“The door won’t open.”

Kuroo elbows him out of the way and pulls on the door, grunting in effort.

“Shit, come on.”

“Did you think I would let you escape that easily?” Oikawa asks, and Kei turns back to see him limping toward them.

Oikawa throws his arm out in front of him, and a bolt of black and green energy shoots from his palm towards them. Kei isn’t sure why he pulls Kuroo down with him, but the spell harmlessly dissipates against the door with a loud hiss.

Kei lunges, grabs the vase by the door, and chucks it at Oikawa. It smashes against him, and he stumbles back, dazed.

Before Kei can think of what to do next, Kuroo shoves something into his hand. “Think of home!”

It’s the Babylon candle he’d tried to steal. Kuroo had been so adamant about taking Kei with him earlier. Is he really going to let Kei go now, just like that?

Kuroo fumbles to get the match out of the matchbox. He lights it and lets the box fall to the ground so he can hold the candle steady with one hand and light it with the other.

“No!” Oikawa lunges for them.

“Think of home,” Kuroo says again.

He doesn’t have time to consider if it’s a trick, if Kuroo has some other motive.

 _Home_ , Kei thinks wildly, thinks of the Court of Stars, the night sky, dark and warm and enveloping. Safe.

Home.

The ground disappears beneath them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU TO:  
> \- my wonderful betas, [sarah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ailurea) and [sand](https://archiveofourown.org/users/undieshogun), without whom this fic would never be fit for public consumption  
> \- [cai](https://twitter.com/blacktreecle) and [kay](https://twitter.com/kiyachis), who provided much emotional support and without whom this fic would never have been completed at all  
> \- and YOU, for reading this fic i've worked so hard on! i hope you've enjoyed it so far! <3
> 
> // [my twitter](https://twitter.com/qorktree)


	2. Chapter 2

They’re standing on a cloud. At least, Tetsurou thinks they’re standing on a cloud. He doesn’t know any precedent for this sort of thing, but he hasn’t known any precedent for anything that’s happened since he crossed the Wall so he can’t discount anything.

Blue shocks of lightning spark in the air and a loud wind whips around him. His feet disappear into some sort of wispy cloud matter. It’s like he’s standing ankle-deep in shallow water, if the water looked like a dark grey fog. At least it’s apparently solid enough to stand on beneath that.

“Umm.” Tetsurou looks to Tsukishima standing beside him and frowning in confusion.

“Why are we here?” Tsukishima asks.

“I don’t know. I was definitely thinking about my house, in my village, not wherever this is.”

Irritation crosses Tsukishima’s face. “How was I supposed to know that’s what you meant? You said home, so obviously I thought of _my_ home.”

“Oh. Shit.” Tetsurou rubs the back of his head. “Okay, yeah, that’s fair. I can see why you would think that.”

In his defense, a scary guy with magic powers was about to kill them. He didn’t really have time to think before he spoke.

“Nice,” Tsukishima says. “This is your fault.”

Tetsurou can’t even say anything, because he’s right; Tsukishima just wanted to go home, and Tetsurou had the means for him to get back, and now it’s been squandered. The candle is gone now, no remaining charges left to give him. But he can’t just let Tsukishima go, either. He has to take him to heal Kenma. That’s why he came out here in the first place, and his goal hasn’t changed. But while Tetsurou was fully prepared for the dangers of plunging into the unknown, he didn’t think he would be dragging some other hapless individual with him.

Tsukishima turns his head away and crosses his arms tightly around himself, and that’s when Tetsurou finally notices the blood.

Shit. Oikawa must have gotten to him before Tetsurou arrived.

“You’re bleeding.” Tetsurou reaches out for the injured arm but stops when Tsukishima shrinks away. “Come on, I just want to help.”

“Sure you do.”

Tetsurou grits his teeth. He wishes Tsukishima wasn’t so stubborn. Like Kenma. What is with him and stupid, stubborn boys?

He yanks his coat off and strips out of his linen shirt. The air is biting cold, and he quickly pulls his coat back on and buttons it up.

He stretches the shirt out and holds it up. “At least let me bind your arm. Please.”

Tsukishima eyes him warily for several seconds before he acquiesces and holds his arm out. Tetsurou wraps his shirt tightly around it.

“There. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“No,” Tsukishima says, stiff.

“Are you okay?”

Tsukishima’s stare is icy. “How did you even find me?”

“Huh?” Tetsurou thinks back to running after Tsukishima, so frustrated and desperate and how could he lose him? The forest had become a murky maze, and he swore he was running in circles.

He’d half-jogged around for a while, aimless, when he suddenly felt, deep in his chest—

“I don’t know how to explain it, but I had this feeling, like you were in trouble and needed help? And I followed that feeling and I found you.”

“What?” Tsukishima narrows his eyes. “How—”

Tsukishima doesn’t get to finish his question, because there’s a huge rush of air and Tetsurou stumbles forward into him, catching himself on Tsukishima’s shoulders.

“Hey, hey, hey!” a voice booms from behind them, and Tetsurou nearly jumps out of his skin. “Looks like a couple of guys are here to steal our thunder!”

Tetsurou leaves one hand anchored on Tsukishima’s shoulder and turns to find himself facing a huge ship with billowing masts. Dark wisps roll against the wooden sides of the ship as it plunges into the cloud. A man clad in white stands at the helm, his hands on his hips. Two others haul an anchor over the side of the ship; it lands on the cloud with a reverberating thud, and Tetsurou stumbles.

“What the hell?”

“We won’t let you get away with it!” The man at the helm points at them. “Arrest them!”

Someone lowers a gangway, and then a man with dirty blond hair strolls down from the ship. He’s got narrow eyes and a smirk that make him look all too gleeful about the handcuffs he’s holding up. Tetsurou takes a step back before he realizes there’s nowhere to run, really, and then he moves to at least stand in front of Tsukishima.

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding.” He flashes a nervous smile. “Why don’t we just calm down and talk it out?”

“Hmm. Try again.”

Tetsurou lets him slap the handcuffs on his wrist without putting up a fight. Handcuffed or not, he’ll feel better standing on solid wood, and he breathes a quick sigh of relief when Tsukishima follows suit beside him and they’re jostled up onto the ship.

“This is a misunderstanding,” he tries again once he’s safely aboard and confronted with, presumably, the captain.

The man standing before him is about the same height as him, but he feels taller in the way he holds himself. He’s wearing a beautiful double-breasted white tailcoat with gold trimmings, white pants, and white boots with gold cuffs. Dark streaks run through his spiky silver hair.

The man puffs out his chest. “My understanding is that you’re trying to steal my thunder!”

“Er, whatever you mean by that, we’re not…”

“He means literally.” Another new face steps up to stand beside the captain. With short brown hair and dark eyes, he’s a bit more plain and yet to Tetsurou he’s no less captivating than the captain. He’s also wearing an impeccable white outfit, but with black trimmings instead of gold. In his hands is some sort of narrow tube, inside which is sparking blue electricity. “Well, almost literally. We harvest lightning.”

“We’re storm chasers, and the skies over this entire kingdom is our domain!” The captain even has a voice like thunder, rumbling and powerful. His grin is sharp and confident. “And anyone who wants to challenge that can duel me for it.”

Tetsurou waves his bound hands frantically in front of him. “That won’t be necessary. We ended up on this cloud by mistake. We weren’t intending to steal your thunder. Or lightning, I guess.” He throws a glance over his shoulder to where more of the ship’s crew have disembarked and are roving about the cloud with more of those tubes.

“A likely story.” The captain leans forward. “So, how’d you end up on my cloud _by mistake_?”

“We used a magic candle. There was a—er, miscommunication—”

Tsukishima coughs.

“Look, I’m just trying to get back to my village,” Tetsurou says. “My best friend is really, really sick, and I need to get back as soon as possible. Can you help us?”

Tsukishima inhales sharply beside him, but before Tetsurou can turn to check on him, the captain’s hands clap heavily on his shoulders, and he winces.

“Your friend is sick! Why didn’t you say so sooner?!”

“I—”

“Captain Bokuto Koutarou at your service.” He bows grandly. “Stick with us and we’ll get you home.” He raises his voice, if possible. “Konoha! Release these prisoners! They are now my guests!”

The man who’d handcuffed them scowls as he comes forward and removes their bindings. “I’ve had just about enough of Bokuto’s whims for one day.”

“No, you haven’t,” Akaashi says. He hands off his bottled lightning to Konoha. “We still have a few hours left in the day.”

“Ugh,” Konoha says, but he smirks a little as he turns away.

“Luckily for you two, we got held up chasing this storm and we’re having a late dinner today,” Bokuto says. “Speaking of, I should see how that’s going. Akaashi?”

Akaashi nods. To Tetsurou and Tsukishima, he says, “I’ll show you to the guest quarters. There’s only one bed. Will that be okay?”

“Um.” Tetsurou glances nervously back at Tsukishima, who stares back with an inscrutable expression. Well, Tsukishima can take the bed, it’s whatever. “That’s fine, thank you. I’m Kuroo Tetsurou, by the way.”

“Akaashi Keiji. It’s a pleasure.” He leads them below deck and down a hall to a sparsely decorated, spacious room furnished with a bed, wardrobe, and desk. “Do you need any medicine for your sick friend? We have supplies, or we can stop at a market to pick something up. You’d be surprised some of the luxuries a band of sky pirates has access to. Mostly because we’re not nearly as renegade as the Captain likes to pretend.”

He smiles a little as he says that. It’s a private smile, one Tetsurou’s sure isn’t really meant for him, as it quickly reverts to a neutral expression.

“No,” he says. “Medicine—nothing’s worked. But it’s okay. I have what I need now.” Or who, he supposes, glancing at Tsukishima.

Akaashi smiles politely, though he probably doesn’t have any idea what Tetsurou is talking about.

“Tsukishima’s arm is hurt, though.” Tetsurou gestures to the poorly-wrapped arm. “If someone could take a look at it or something.”

“Of course,” Akaashi says. “There are some basic garments in the wardrobe. Please, change and make yourselves comfortable. I’ll send someone down to take a look at the arm. Afterwards, come up to the deck and join us for dinner.”

He says it fast and perfunctorily, and he’s out the door again before Tetsurou can get a word in edgewise.

“Well,” Tetsurou says. “He seems nice.”

Tsukishima sits delicately on the edge of the bed. “Yeah.”

“And you’re still not much for conversation, I see.”

Tetsurou goes to inspect the contents of the wardrobe. For ‘basic garments,’ they’re a hell of lot nicer than anything he’s ever worn in his life. He’s never had the luxury of nice clothes. The clothes his village sells are practical, and any trips to the city are spent in search of new medicine or a doctor. There just aren’t any funds to spare for fancy clothes that would go to waste in their dusty village.

He reaches into the wardrobe and holds a few different shirts against his chest before picking a solid grey button-down that looks like it’ll fit him.

“Your friend,” Tsukishima starts, and trails off.

Shit. Maybe he prefers the silent treatment after all.

“Yeah?” Tetsurou is careful to keep his voice neutral. He doesn’t look at Tsukishima, and busies himself instead with taking his coat off and doing the buttons on his new shirt.

He hasn’t really talked to Tsukishima about Kenma at all, mostly because he’s been trying not to think about Kenma, because if he starts thinking about Kenma then he’ll start thinking about how he’s so far away and what if something happened to him in the hours he’s been gone and he needs to get back to his village so he can check up on him _right the fuck now_.

Tetsurou realizes he’s leaning into the wardrobe, fingers digging into the wood hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. He exhales. Tsukishima hasn’t said anything, he doesn’t think. He looks over his shoulder to see him still sitting on the edge of the bed, fidgeting and staring down at his hands.

Tetsurou faces the wardrobe again and picks out a pair of black trousers. Technically there’s nothing wrong with his own pants, but he can’t help but put them on, as well as a black buttonless blazer.

When he can’t distract himself with clothes anymore, he turns around with a sigh.

“He’s been sick since he was a kid.”

He pauses. Tsukishima looks up and watches him, quiet and attentive.

Tetsurou swallows. “The doctors don’t know what exactly is wrong, but he’s been getting worse. I’ve heard about the healing powers of stars and when we saw a falling star I thought… I had to go, no matter what. I’d do anything to help him.”

“Oh,” Tsukishima says.

“Before I left, earlier tonight, Kenma told me he thought he wouldn’t make it to my next birthday. That really rattled me.” He bites his lip. “I’m sorry I was so pushy before. I’m just scared for him. And, so, you know. I’m sorry it’s selfish, but could you please not run away again?”

“I—”

There’s a knock on the cabin door. Tsukishima slams his mouth shut. Tetsurou waits, but he doesn’t say anything, and when there’s another knock, more insistent this time, Tetsurou jumps for it.

Two women stand waiting on the other side of the door. The one in the lead is holding a basin of water and has some towels and bandages draped over her arms. She introduces herself as Shirofuku Yukie and her companion as Suzumeda Kaori, here on Captain Bokuto’s behalf to check on an arm injury and take their measurements.

“Wait—” Tetsurou says.

“If we don’t hurry, they’ll get started on dinner without us.” Shirofuku bustles past Tetsurou and heads straight for Tsukishima. “Let’s see that arm.”

“Oh—okay.” Tsukishima holds his arm out, still crudely wrapped in Tetsurou’s shirt.

Suzumeda turns to Tetsurou. “Meanwhile, I’ll take your measurements!” She holds up a tape measure and clipboard. “Clothes off, please.”

“Wait, wait,” Tetsurou says. “Measurements?”

“Yes,” Suzumeda says.

“Okay… Why?”

“Our esteemed captain,” Shirofuku says, and there’s a smile in her voice like she’s just holding back a laugh, “has a flair for the dramatic. He wants both his guests to receive specially tailored outfits before they leave his care.”

Tsukishima snorts, but Tetsurou is so on board, and Suzumeda doesn’t need to ask again for him to strip his clothes off.

Suzumeda wraps her tape measure around Tetsurou’s bare waist. “According to Bokuto, a good wardrobe is essential to being a sky pirate, so everyone on the crew knows how to sew.”

“Now if only more of them knew how to cook.” Shirofuku sighs. “Honestly, we need more people on cooking duty than sewing duty.”

“That’s because you and Bokuto eat half the food all on your own,” Suzumeda says.

“Hey!”

The two bicker good-naturedly while Shirofuku washes and dresses Tsukishima’s wound in a proper bandage. After Suzumeda finishes taking Tetsurou’s measurements, she takes Tsukishima’s (Tetsurou turns and faces the wall upon his request), and then they both leave with instructions to join them for dinner soon.

Tetsurou starts counting gnarls in the wood wall while Tsukishima picks out new clothes from the wardrobe.

“About you running away before,” Tetsurou says.

“What.”

“Who was that guy?” Tetsurou asks. He remembers something Tsukishima said when they first met. “Was he the one who made you fall?”

Tsukishima is silent for a long moment. “I don’t know.”

“How do you even make a star fall? Like, it doesn’t just happen by itself? People can make it happen?”

“I don’t know!” Tsukishima slams the wardrobe shut in time with his harsh reply.

Tetsurou winces. “Okay, I’m sorry. Do you at least know why he was trying to kill you?”

Tsukishima brushes roughly past him and throws the cabin door open. “Let’s go.”

Even though he’s definitely pissed at Tetsurou for some reason, Tsukishima is even more beautiful now that he’s exchanged his dirty dress for black trousers and a soft black turtleneck with gold accents, an outfit that sharpens his ethereal beauty and clear golden eyes.

“Okay,” Tetsurou says, momentarily distracted. He supposes he can save the questions for later, and hopefully the food will mollify him.

They go up to the deck. Lights strung along the sides of the ship bathe the space in a warm light. A buffet table bolted to the deck stands covered in food and the crew members sit in a circle on the floor with their plates. Bokuto waves him and Tsukishima over, and they meet the rest of the crew over dinner.

Despite the fact that he and Tsukishima are total strangers, Bokuto’s crew welcomes them with friendly ease. One of them, Komi, is excited to have guests on board. Konoha is good-natured about the whole handcuffing thing from earlier. A guy named Washio, who is not half as stern as he looks, says he’ll be designing their new outfits and that they should let him know if they have any preferences.

Tetsurou notes with some amusement that Shirofuku and Bokuto really do eat the most out of everyone. Tsukishima, on the other hand, does not eat nearly enough. He took a small helping to begin with, and he’s eaten maybe half of it while Tetsurou and most everyone else are working through seconds.

“Hey, you need to eat more to keep up your strength.” He transfers some vegetables from his plate to Tsukishima’s.

“Yeah, here!” Bokuto piles more food onto Tsukishima’s plate. “You gotta get some meat on those bones!”

Tsukishima stares at his plate. “I’m not hungry.”

Bokuto slaps Tsukishima heartily on the back. “Eat! It’s good for you! But if you don’t want it, then I’ll take it.” He throws his head back to laugh boisterously.

“I don’t understand what’s funny, but by all means.” Tsukishima holds his plate up.

“Hey!” Tetsurou says as Bokuto swipes all the meat back onto his own plate and shovels it into his mouth without a second thought. “Okay, at least eat your veggies. You’ll feel better.”

Tsukishima looks doubtful, but he puts a forkful of greens into his mouth anyway. Tetsurou gives him a thumbs up. Tsukishima rolls his eyes, but hey, he still ate it, so he’ll take it.

***

Bokuto’s office is a cluttered mess, papers scattered across the desk, empty lightning bottles littered around the floor, swords and big rolled up scrolls leaned against the wall. There must be some method to the madness though because Bokuto doesn’t even hesitate as he picks out a single scroll from the cluster. He unrolls it to reveal a huge map and slaps it down on the table.

“So, Kuroo, where’re you from?”

Tetsurou blinks down at the table. He’s never seen such a huge map before, and he doesn’t recognize any of the names when he skims over it. But he’s already begun to suspect that his village wouldn’t be on any map from here in the first place.

“Umm… I come from a small village on the other side of a great Wall that extends as far as the eye can see, and things are very different there. I haven’t seen much of the world so I’ve kind of been taking everything I’ve seen here in stride, but…” He laughs, awkward. “I mean, there’s no way magic is real and stars are people and ships can _fly_ and I somehow never knew about any of it.”

“But—” Tsukishima starts.

“Whoa!” Bokuto says. “The other side of the Wall? That’s gutsy!”

Tetsurou glances at Tsukishima, who shakes his head rapidly, eyes wide behind his glasses.

He frowns, but his attention shifts back to Akaashi when he murmurs, “Another world. We’ve heard tell of it, although no one ever crosses the Wall.”

“I mean, your world seems a whole lot cooler than mine, so you’re not missing out on much.” Tetsurou pauses, remembering almost being blasted to pieces by a witch and feeling trapped and lost atop a cloud. “Although, it does seem more dangerous here.”

“That’s because you’ve attached yourself to a magnet for trouble,” Akaashi says.

“Eh? What do you mean?” Bokuto asks.

Akaashi looks to Tsukishima, and Tetsurou follows his gaze.

“Yeah.” Tetsurou scratches his head. “I guess he has been, so far.”

“Thanks,” Tsukishima says.

“What? What?” Bokuto whips his head back and forth, looking between the three of them.

Tetsurou hesitates, then shrugs. He doesn’t know the etiquette of this world, if it’s something he should be saying. If being a star makes Tsukishima a target for some reason, he doesn’t know if he should tell Bokuto. In any case, if anyone should tell him, it should be Tsukishima himself.

Bokuto pouts. “Whatever! Keep your secrets.” He doesn’t seem too troubled by it, though, because he turns right back to Tetsurou and says, “The Wall is far so it’ll take some time, but we’ll get you there.”

“That’s okay,” Tetsurou says. “I really, really appreciate it.”

Bokuto slaps Tetsurou’s arm, hard. “Don’t worry about it! I’m sure your friend will be just fine when you get back.”

He grins broadly, and Tetsurou can’t help but smile back despite the thud of worry over Kenma.

“I’m sure you’re right.”

 

* * *

 

Kuroo insisted Kei take the single bed in their quarters. Kei felt bad about it, but not quite bad enough to argue. He lies in bed and stares at the wooden ceiling while Kuroo snores softly from the floor, and he sighs.

He’s not getting any sleep tonight.

Now that he’s out of Oikawa’s inn, he knows he was under some sort of enchantment in there, something that dulled his guard. He curses himself for falling for such an obvious trap.

He should have just stayed with Kuroo. But it’s not like he knew. It’s not like he could have known that Kuroo wants a star’s powers not for himself, but for his sick friend. Not only that, but Kei’s earlier guess has been all but confirmed: Kuroo doesn’t know that a star’s powers come from their heart. It would explain a lot. He comes from another world, after all, one where magic doesn’t exist.

 _But_ , Kei almost blurted out in front of everyone, _but that means—_

That means he came here on less than a chance and half a hope that he would find something that could save his friend. What must it feel like, to care about someone so much that you would go to such lengths for them?

Kei should have told Kuroo earlier, when he asked about Oikawa, the truth about a star’s powers. But he couldn’t help but remember how desperate Kuroo sounded when he told Bokuto that he just needed to get home. And he said it himself; he’d do anything to help his friend.

Then the source of Kei’s powers should make no difference. Right?

He didn’t know, and he wasn’t prepared to find out just then.

Kei swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands. The wood floor creaks beneath his feet, and Kuroo snorts awake a few feet away.

“Kenma?”

“Sorry, just me.”

“Oh.” Kei sees Kuroo’s faint outline moving in the dark as he sits up, hears his drawn-out yawn. “Are you okay?”

He wishes Kuroo would stop asking such a hard to answer question. “You wake up really easily.”

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

He can barely see Kuroo in the darkness of their room but he turns away anyway. He looks down at his hands and tugs his finger. “Kenma is your friend? The one who’s sick.”

Silence.

“Yeah,” Kuroo says, the word scraped and forced. “I’ve known him since I was a kid. His parents took me in when mine died, even though they were struggling enough taking care of him. I’m always worried about him, so I learned how to wake up at the slightest thing in case anything was wrong. I didn’t want to miss anything. I didn’t—” Kuroo’s breath hitches. “I don’t wanna lose him.”

“I—” Kei turns away from Kuroo’s breaking voice. “I’m going up to get some air.”

“Oh. Want me to come with?”

“No,” Kei says, too quickly. “Please.”

“Okay.”

Kei is relieved when Kuroo doesn’t say anything else, and he doesn’t say anything either, just crosses to the door and then up the stairs. He exhales, some of the tension in him releasing as he steps into the cool open air of the deck.

“Trouble sleeping?”

Kei starts and looks over to see Akaashi leaning against the wall. “Ah—yes.”

Akaashi steps forward. “Midnight is the only peaceful time on this ship.” He closes his eyes and faces the sky, breathing slowly in.

“Yes,” Kei says again, unsure of what else to say.

He believes it, in any case; Bokuto is by far the biggest presence on the ship, but his energy seems to make the rest of his crew louder as well. A quiet calm has settled over the ship now. The ship is docked on a cloud that’s drifting lazily along, miles from the bustle of the Earthly Plane below and any skycities in the Sky Realm. They’re alone, just the moon and stars overhead and the endless sky around them.

Kei feels more homesick than ever.

Akaashi looks at him and tilts his head slightly. “Can I ask you something?”

He says it casually enough, but Kei tenses anyway. “Okay.”

“Why are you with Kuroo?”

“Pardon?”

“You’re a star. Kuroo wants your powers to heal his sick friend.”

“Yes.”

Akaashi’s expression doesn’t really change, but his eyebrows do raise slightly. Kei gets the impression that he’s amused by his monosyllabic responses.

“Do you think he’d be okay with it, if he knew where your powers came from?”

The answer is obvious when someone else is asking it.

“No. I’m sure he wouldn’t.”

“So why haven’t you told him?”

It’s a good question. He should tell him. He should really, really tell him. But then Kuroo will know that all he risked was for nothing.

“I don’t know,” Kei says, because all he can come up with is, _I don’t want to break his heart_ , but he doesn’t know why.

“Forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn, but you should probably think about what you’re going to do.”

“No, you’re right.” He’ll tell him. Obviously. It’s the only thing he can do. Kei inclines his head. “Thank you.”

Akaashi smirks a little. “It’s nice to talk to someone who will listen to my advice, for once.”

“A shame, since as far as I can tell, you’re the most sensible person aboard this ship.”

Akaashi laughs. It’s a pretty sight, the way his eyes crinkle up pleasantly, and Kei is surprised to find himself feeling at ease. It’s different here from the cloying comfort in Oikawa’s inn.

His stomach twists at the memory. Even if this ship isn’t the same sort of trap, that still doesn’t mean he’s safe here.

“Um, about the rest of the crew…”

“I won’t tell them you’re a star,” Akaashi says. “Though you’re safe here regardless. None of them are the type.”

“Thank you. Really.”

“Of course.” Akaashi inclines his head. “You should get some rest. Our crew likes to get up bright and early.”

Kei nods. He doesn’t point out that if Akaashi’s saying that, he should be the one getting rest. “Right. Then, if you’ll excuse me.”

Kuroo is still awake when Kei returns to their room. He’s sitting upright on the bed, light from the hall illuminating his tired face.

“Hey,” Kuroo says.

“Er, hi.” Kei closes the door behind him and the room settles back into darkness. It’s easier to face him when he can’t make out his eyes. “You didn’t have to wait for me.”

“Would’ve woken up when you came back anyway.”

In the dim, Kei can see him get up from the bed. “Wait,” he says, surprising himself. “We can both fit on the bed. You don’t have to take the floor.”

“Oh.” Kuroo hesitates, standing beside the bed. “Well, if you’re okay with it.”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t.”

He lies down on the bed and scoots close to the wall. After a moment, the bed dips as Kuroo lowers himself onto the edge. He leaves a hand’s width between them.

Kei searches for the words he needs to say and comes up empty.

Ugh. This has no right to be so hard. He barely knows Kuroo. What happens next shouldn’t be a concern to him. But Kuroo shifts around on the bed and he says, “You okay?” and some hidden part of Kei wants to scream.

Again. Kuroo is asking him again. Where does he even have the room for this? He should have his hands full worrying about his friend. He shouldn’t have any concern to spare for someone he just met.

Kei thinks for a moment, unsure how to deflect and unsure what the truth would even be. Finally, he says, “I’ve been worse.”

“That’s fair, I guess.”

“Kuroo?”

“Yeah?”

“I…”

_I can’t help you._

“What’s wrong?” Kuroo asks.

Kei closes his eyes and exhales. Tonight’s been rough for them both. Tomorrow. He’ll tell him tomorrow.

“Are, um… are you okay?” Kei asks.

“I’ve been worse,” Kuroo says, and, cutting off Kei’s scoff, “Really, though, I’m okay.” He presses his back up against Kei’s, but he only holds himself there for a moment before he withdraws. “Thanks for asking.”

The skin on Kei’s back itches. “Um, sure. Good night, Kuroo.”

“Good night, Tsukishima.”

Kuroo doesn’t take long to sink into sleep, and Kei counts his breaths until he follows.

***

“So, I have something for you,” Kuroo says.

“Oh,” Kei says. He doesn’t know when or even where Kuroo could have gotten anything, seeing as the skyship has been cruising along without any stops today. Also, Kei’s spent the day trying to figure out how to tell Kuroo that he can’t actually help him, and a gift won’t make things easier. “What is it?”

Kuroo leads him to the buffet table. There’s a round tray in the back, covered so Kei can’t see what’s inside until Kuroo lifts the lid to reveal a cake covered in pink frosting, cut into even slices.

“I made dessert. Uh, for everyone, but mostly for you. Because we got off to a rough start and then there was the whole thing with the scary magic guy who tried to kill us and—” Kuroo shifts on his feet and runs his hand through his hair. His smile is nervous, awkward. “I don’t know, I just wanted to do something nice for you. I know you don’t eat much, but maybe you have a sweet tooth?”

“He was a witch,” Kei says, mostly to stall, because he can’t wrap his head around Kuroo and his excess of kindness. “Also, stars don’t really eat. I mean, when I’m like this, I have to, but I’m not fond of it.”

Kei bites the inside of his cheek. Kuroo is trying to be nice and Kei just throws it back in his face. He can’t say anything right.

Kuroo doesn’t seem bothered though, just curious. “What do you mean, when you’re like this?”

“I mean, when I’m in this form. I don’t usually have a body that needs to eat or sleep or… do other things.”

“Other things? Like, pee? Is peeing weird? That must have been weird, the first time. Wait, have you even been to the bathroom yet?”

“And I’m done talking about it,” Kei says. He knows about things and how to do things—all the technical knowledge is in his head—but it feels incongruent with his lack of experience occupying a physical form so yeah, it can be a little weird sometimes.

Still, he’s not about to talk to Kuroo about going to the bathroom. Which he _has_ done, thank you.

“Okay, okay. But come on, try a slice.”

Kuroo transfers slice to plate and offers it to Kei. Kei is skeptical but he cuts off a small piece with his fork and eats it.

The cake is soft and moist and the frosting has a sweet berry taste and he’s surprised by how good it is. He takes another bite.

“Aha,” Kuroo says. “Sweet tooth.”

“Shut up.” Kei turns away so Kuroo can’t watch him work through the slice, ignores Kuroo’s soft laugh beside him.

“Back home, I work at a bakery,” Kuroo says. “My boss, Yaku, does most of the baking, but I’d like to think I’m pretty decent at it myself.”

“Not bad,” Kei says.

“‘Not bad’? I pour my heart and soul into this cake and you—”

“Kuroo.”

“—just crush me like that. What?”

“It’s good,” Kei says. “Thank you.”

Kuroo’s face melts into a startlingly sweet expression of surprised happiness. There’s something so innocent about it, and Kei’s resolve weakens. He really wishes he didn’t have to tell Kuroo that Kei is actually useless to him.

***

Kuroo starts making dessert every night. Not just for Kei—the crew was very enthusiastic when they tried Kuroo’s cake and insisted he make dessert as long as they’re on board—but Kuroo certainly acts like he’s baking for Kei every time. Everything he makes is delicious, so Kei decides, grudgingly, that it’s worth all the teasing he gets about his sweet tooth.

Time on the ship passes almost carelessly. Between playing card games with various crew members and helping out in the kitchen, Bokuto has taken it upon himself to teach Kuroo swordplay, while Akaashi saved Kei from a similar fate of physical exertion by stealing him away for violin lessons instead.

And then Bokuto decides he wants to teach Kei to dance.

“I’ll pass, thanks,” Kei says. Nothing could sound less appealing.

“Aw, come on, Akaashi got you all day. I want a turn!”

“Oh my, really?” He smiles brightly at Bokuto. “Sorry, but business hours are closed now. You can try again tomorrow.”

Kuroo claps his hand over his mouth to stifle his guffaw.

“Hey, you—” Bokuto swings around to glare at Kuroo, but Kuroo puts a hand up.

“Sorry, sorry.” He takes a moment to collect himself, and the smile he gives Bokuto is much more sincere than Kei’s. “You can teach me, if you want, but I have to warn you, I don’t know a thing about dancing.”

Bokuto grabs Kuroo by the wrists and drags him roughly to the middle of the deck. “It’s easy! It’s just like swordplay, but with a little more finesse and a little less ba-bam.”

“Uh-huh,” Kuroo says.

He clearly doesn’t get what Bokuto is saying, but he goes along with it anyway and allows Bokuto to spin him around in some approximation of dancing. Mostly, he stumbles along following Bokuto’s lead, and Kei has to bring his hand up to hide a chuckle when Kuroo steps on Bokuto’s foot.

“Very graceful,” he says.

He can’t help but stare, though, at the way Kuroo trips over his own feet and falls against Bokuto’s chest. At the way he pulls back, laughing. The deck is washed in the orange light of the setting sun and casts soft shadows across Kuroo’s features. He’s pretty like this. Beautiful, even.

Akaashi clears his throat beside him, and Kei startles.

“Even Bokuto will figure you out if you’re not careful,” Akaashi says.

Kei is confused until he realizes that he’s shining, just a little bit. He ducks his head, abruptly aware of how fast his heart is beating, and is glad his long sleeves and pants cover up most of his skin.

“You said I wouldn’t have to worry about anyone.”

“Well, I can’t make any promises about teasing,” Akaashi says. “Or matchmaking.”

“Pardon?”

Akaashi glances at Kuroo, then back to Kei.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kei says.

“You really suck!” Bokuto says cheerfully, and they both turn to where he and Kuroo are standing still in the middle of the deck. “Akaashi, get over here so we can show this guy how it’s done!”

Akaashi smiles indulgently. “Pardon me,” he says to Kei.

Kei nods and watches Akaashi take Kuroo’s place and begin to dance with considerably more grace. It’s not long before his gaze slides over to Kuroo, standing off to the side and watching them.

Kuroo turns back to him and smiles. Kei, caught off-guard, flashes a small smile back. Kuroo’s whole face seems to brighten, grin stretching wide across his face, and he makes a series of gesture that Kei can only guess means, _Dance with me?_

Kei shakes his head. No way. He has no idea how to dance, and he’s not looking to make a fool of himself.

But as he watches Bokuto gracefully spin Akaashi, who then drops Bokuto’s hand and takes Kuroo’s in one fluid motion, pulling him in close, he can’t help but wish a little.

***

He asks Akaashi to teach him how to dance.

***

The pantry runs out of things for Kuroo to bake with.

“We were due for a supply stop soon anyway,” Bokuto says. “And there’s a skyport nearby, so we won’t even have to descend.”

Kuroo’s eyes are comically wide when he says, “Skyport?”

Which is how they find themselves loose in a skycity with a bag of coins from Bokuto. The rest of the crew, also equipped with pouches to spend, scatters immediately, likely with stores in mind. Kuroo, though, stands rooted in the middle of the walkway and stares. He stares at stores and apartments even though they aren’t significantly different from the buildings back on the Earthly Plane. He also stares at the skyfolk wandering about, some on foot, others gliding through the open sky.

“Wings,” Kuroo says, very articulately.

“Yes,” Kei says, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Astute observation.”

Kuroo doesn’t reply and continues to gape.

Kei takes pity on him. “They’re skyfolk. A bit similar to you humans, with some obvious differences.”

“Skyfolk,” Kuroo repeats. He looks at Kei. “You know, your world is pretty amazing.”

Kuroo’s eyes are so wide and bright, Kei almost imagines they’re shining with starlight, but he dismisses the notion before it can take root.

“It is what it is,” he says. “Now stop wasting time, we haven’t got all day. Where do you want to go first?”

Despite the fact that he’s obviously still overwhelmed by his surroundings, Kuroo’s answer comes without hesitation. “A bookstore.”

So they find a bookstore. Inside, Kuroo walks along the shelves and runs his fingers over the spines, tracing titles and picking out so many that Kei has to help carry them.

“Kenma likes reading,” he says. “He likes the stories and… Even if he wasn’t sick he’d prefer staying in, I bet, but I know he’d also like to go out and see some things on his own, too. Find adventure. Be part of his own story.”

Kei makes a noncommittal noise. Kuroo glances at him. He seems to understand, or at least accept, that Kei has nothing to say, because he rounds the corner into the next aisle and immediately starts talking again.

“Oh my goodness,” Kuroo says. “Magic science books. This is incredible.”

He reads the titles out loud— “ _Philosophizing Magic: Ethical Spellcasting_ , _Polar Bears and Their Magical Qualities_ —wait, what.”

“What?” Kei asks.

Kuroo holds a book up for Kei to see: _The Practicality and Possibilities of Long-Range Magic_.

Kei doesn’t get it. “Okay…?”

Kuroo jabs his thumb at the smaller text of the author’s name. “Kozume. That’s Kenma’s surname. Kenma’s parents… They disappeared a few years ago. They said they were going to find help for Kenma, but they never came back.” His tongue dashes nervously across his lips. “My friend gave me the Babylon candle, but he said Kenma’s parents gave it to him. I thought they came over to this side of the Wall at some point, but what if they came _from_ …?”

He’s probably thinking out loud. Kei wouldn’t know anything about this. Or he’s looking for some sort of reassurance, but Kei doesn’t want to get his hopes up for something else when he’s already setting him up for such heartbreak.

“It’s probably a coincidence,” he says. “The name.”

Kuroo frowns at the book. “I guess… You’re probably right.” He shakes his head and returns the book to its shelf. “It doesn’t matter now, anyway. If they were coming back, they would have by now, and I don’t think they would ever abandon Kenma so that means they’re… gone.” Kuroo’s smile is soft and heart-wrenching, and his eyes are wet. “I think it’s time I accepted that.”

“I’m sorry,” Kei says.

He reaches out to touch Kuroo’s arm. Kuroo is tactile, he’s noticed. Mostly with Bokuto, but perhaps that’s because Bokuto is the most receptive to it. When Kei curls his fingers around Kuroo’s bicep, some of the tension seems to drain out of him, and his smile is a little less sad. Kei smiles back in relief.

“Thanks,” Kuroo says. “Come on, there’s one more book I want to find before I’m finished here.”

The last book Kuroo wants is a book of plays.

“I bet Bokuto would love this.”

“He doesn’t seem like the reading type,” Kei says.

“No, but doesn’t he seem like the theatrical type?” Kuroo sets the book on top of the stack in Kei’s arms and leads him to the register.

Kei is relieved that Kuroo’s mood seems to be back to normal, but after the exist the store, Kuroo asks, “Do you think he could come see this place someday?”

Kei doesn’t have to ask who he’s talking about. His stomach twists, the truth an insidious whisper in his ears, but he still can’t summon the words to his tongue.

“Maybe. We must be far from your village, though.”

“Yeah. The books will have to do for now.” Kuroo sighs. “Well, shall we move on?”

They spend the next while window-shopping at every store they pass. Well, Kuroo window-shops; mostly, Kei watches him in amused indulgence. His eyes do catch, though, on a storefront displaying necklaces with beautiful gemstone pendants. Kuroo notices and steers them both inside.

“I don’t want anything,” Kei protests. It won’t matter when he goes back home, anyway.

“Aw, but look at this one,” Kuroo says.

He’s looking at a blue gemstone sitting on the counter beneath a small lamp. It’s smooth, unlike the sparkling faceted gems lining the rest of the counter, and Kei marvels at the six sharp, white lines spreading from the middle of the gem. It looks as if it’s glowing from the inside, the light ready to burst through and shatter the gem at any moment.

The skyfolk minding the counter smiles at them. “This one is called a star sapphire,” she says. “This is how it looks under the light.”

“Oh,” Kei breathes.

Kuroo buys it.

The pendant hangs around Kei’s neck, feeling at once light and heavy, and he keeps reaching up to touch it as they continue to window-shop. Kuroo gives most stores a brief look before moving on, but there’s one shop he gets drawn into with lots of wood carvings and trinkets. He winds a music box and stares at it for a long time.

“Do you want it?” Kei asks as the tinny notes slowly come to a halt.

Kuroo takes another long moment before he answers.

“No,” he says finally. “No, I don’t need it. Let’s go.”

They leave, but Kei doesn’t miss the way Kuroo glances back at the shop before moving on.

***

They all have dinner at a restaurant—Bokuto’s treat—and then it’s back to the ship. By this point, he and Kuroo ridiculously over-encumbered because, in addition to the books, Kuroo also ended up buying a few board games for Kenma and miscellaneous gifts for the entire crew.

Kei is surprised when Bokuto gushes over the playbook and rambles on about the play he’s working on, and Akaashi explains that when Bokuto originally came into possession of the ship, he wanted to form a traveling troupe.

“As we had little money to speak of,” Akaashi says, “I suggested we harvest lightning to sustain a living. The troupe part hasn’t quite come together yet.”

“Our day will come!” Bokuto insists, while Kuroo smirks at Kei and mouths, “Knew it.”

It’s late; with the ship resupplied and the pantry re-stocked and ready for Kuroo’s baking adventures, the crew decides it’s time to turn in. They leave the ship docked at the skycity.

“Thanks for indulging me today,” Kuroo says when they’re back in their room.

“What do you mean?” Kei asks.

“You know, going shopping with me. I know you probably weren’t interested in any of that.” His lips quirk. “I bet you would have preferred to just wait on the ship. Kenma’s the same.”

“Maybe I would have preferred that,” Kei says. “But I’m glad I went with you because I did end up buying something.”

“Wait, really? When was this? What is it? Let me see!”

Kei bites back a smile. “While you were taking forever deciding between pocket watches for Akaashi. You didn’t even notice me slip away.”

He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out the music box.

Kuroo gasps.

“It’s for you.” Kei averts his gaze, flustered. “Because you never bought anything for yourself the whole time we were in the city.”

“Oh,” Kuroo says. He takes the box with gentle hands. His face is so soft and reverent as if Kei has given him something much more precious than a little trinket. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, just, thank you. So much.”

“You’re welcome,” Kei says quietly.

He’s well aware that he’s digging himself deeper and deeper into a hole that he can no longer see a way out of, but Kuroo makes it so easy with his giving heart, so unashamedly bared. Kei’s own heart clenches for it; he doesn’t want to hurt it, but he knows that the day will come, and sooner than he wants.

For now, he says nothing, and sinks deeper into the hole.

***

“Hey,” Kuroo says, a couple nights later, “stay up with me a bit?”

It’s late. The rest of the crew have already made their way back to their own cabins, and only Kuroo and Kei remain on the deck.

Kuroo looks tired. Kei’s not sure how often Kuroo wakes in the middle of the night without accidentally bringing Kei to wakefulness with him. Not a lot, he hopes. Kuroo feels bad about waking him up, and has offered more than once to sleep on the floor, but Kei would rather it this way. He would rather be awake to hold Kuroo’s hand and talk quietly until he drifts back to sleep. It’s easier to comfort him in the darkness, with neither of them really able to see the other.

It’s not nearly so dark where Kuroo leads them to sit on the upper deck of the ship. Even with the ship lights off, it’s a clear night and the moon shines brightly overhead.

“I can’t help worrying, when it’s night,” Kuroo says. “That something will happen to him while I’m asleep. It’s weird, because I go to work during the day and I’m not as worried, but it’s the same, isn’t it? No one’s there to watch over him during the day. But something about the night is just… scary.”

Kei wishes he knew what to say. Every time Kenma comes up he’s reminded that Kuroo doesn’t know the truth about his powers, and he feels a stab of guilt in his stomach.

Kuroo’s love for Kenma is incomprehensibly vast, like the night sky above them. Kei doesn’t understand it. He’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to understand it, but he can see how much it grips at Kuroo, and how much it pains him.

Kei didn’t realize love could be so painful. He wants so badly to help, but he can’t. He can’t.

“I’m sorry,” he says finally, the words empty and useless.

Kuroo scrubs a hand across his face. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“I think the night is gentle,” Kei tries. He searches the sky. It’s soothing in its familiarity, even though he’s so far away. “There’s nothing to be frightened of in the darkness.”

“I guess that makes sense, coming from a star.” Kuroo sighs. “So, wait. You seriously live up there? How does that work?”

It’s an obvious attempt to change the subject, but Kuroo looks genuinely interested, like he always does. Kuroo’s talked a lot about his home, or at least the people there, but Kei hasn’t really told Kuroo about his. He knows if he does, he’ll start wishing for impossible things.

But now Kuroo is asking, and his eyes are on the edge of desperate, and Kei finds himself answering.

“Yes, in the Court of Stars. Words don’t do it justice. We don’t have physical forms, exactly, at least not like I have now. Existence is more abstract, and time flows differently there. It’s beautiful. It’s home.”

“I wish I could see it,” Kuroo says.

And there it is. Kei wishes, foolishly, that he could show him, show off his home. Kuroo would be so impressed. But mortals can’t go there.

“Not even skyfolk can enter the Court of Stars,” he says.

“What do you mean?”

“The Court of Stars rubs shoulders with the Sky Realm, so on certain occasions we can enter it, but skyfolk are mortal and cannot pass into the Court of Stars.”

“Wait,” Kuroo says. “This is the Sky Realm, right? So you’ve been here before? Do you know any skyfolk?”

Kei makes a face on reflex. He never lingers long when he visits the Sky Realm, and there are two very loud, very obnoxious reasons why. “I know two. Hinata and Kageyama.”

Kuroo chuckles. “Let me guess, they’re annoying but they’re your friends and you love them anyway.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Nah, you love them. I can tell.”

Kei makes a displeased noise in his throat, and Kuroo laughs again and leans into his side. Kei breathes slowly.

“Tell me more about your home,” he says.

“What else is there to tell?” Kuroo asks. “It’s nothing like this, and definitely nothing like your home. I’m surprised you’re not bored hearing about it.”

“I’m not. I want to know.”

Kuroo sighs, and his shoulders brush Kei’s as he leans back to look up at the sky, hands set flat behind him.

“We’re a small village at the edge of the world. We have wooden sidewalks and dusty streets. We’re a few days out from the next town over and even farther from the city. No one passes through, and nothing ever changes. I go to the same job and see the same people, I look out for Kenma, and then I go to sleep and then I do it again.”

“Did you ever think you wanted more out of life?”

Kuroo takes a second to answer, and when he does, his voice is rough. “I don’t know. I mean, I’ve spent most of my life worrying over Kenma. He tells me, you know, he tells me I need to think about what I want to do after he’s gone, but why the hell would I think about my best friend dying? How the hell does he expect me to do that? He’s—he’s not fine with it, there’s no way he’s fine with it, but he’s accepted it, and it’s just not fair. He doesn’t deserve that. Cooped up in his house all the time, he’s never even gotten to _live_. He deserves a long and happy life where he gets to meet lots of different people and do lots of different things. He deserves that.”

He breaks off into sobs, moves to sit with his knees tucked to his chest, and buries his face in his arms as he heaves in anguish.

Kei’s throat is tight. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what to say. He reaches a hand out, sets it on one shoulder before moving to the other one, wrapping his arm around Kuroo’s back.

“He’s going to be okay.” Kei closes his eyes. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Kuroo turns into him, clings to his back and sobs against his chest. “Thank you,” he says between breaths. “Thank you.”

Kei can’t say anything else, his throat pinched shut. Swallowing hurts, and tears prick the corners of his eyes. His heart aches so much he thinks it might cleave in two. The bottom of his stomach drops out, falling into something endlessly vast, like the sky, and Kei understands.

He understands.

 _You’re an idiot_ , Kei thinks viciously to himself. The first tears slip out. _You’re an idiot and you’re going to give your life for this kind, wonderful man._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!!
> 
> // [my twitter](https://twitter.com/qorktree)


	3. Chapter 3

Kei takes a moment to look over the cards in his hand, assessing them one last time, before he finally spreads them out face-up so everyone can see the three nines and two Jacks.

“Full house.”

Konoha groans and throws his cards down to reveal his losing three fives. “You’re annoying.”

Kei smiles at him. “Thank you.”

He slides the pile of wrapped candies that they’re betting with to his growing stash and Konoha groans again, louder.

“He’s just mad he can’t read you like Bokuto,” Komi says.

“Okay, anyone can read Bokuto, or you, for that matter. This guy is impenetrable.”

“Really, you’re too kind,” Kei says.

Konoha pops one of his candies into his mouth and sucks on it with a petulant expression. “Even Akaashi has tells, once you get to know him.”

“Maybe you just need to get to know Tsukishima, too,” Kuroo says. “I can tell when he’s bluffing.”

“Can you,” Kei says, “or are you just overly cautious? You’ve folded in most of the rounds we’ve played so far.”

“It’s all part of my master plan.”

Komi laughs. “Well, you can start on your comeback any day now.”

He deals out another round, but before they can look at their cards, someone storms up from below deck and the door slams open.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto says. “No more slacking! Konoha, Komi, we have a feast to set up.”

Konoha groans. “I busted my ass doing stuff for you yesterday. I deserve a break.”

“It’s their last meal on our ship, so stop complaining,” Bokuto says. “Speaking of which, you two—” He points at Kei and Kuroo. “—have a very important surprise waiting in your room.”

Kuroo actually squeals. “Our clothes!”

Kei bites down a smile. He knows how excited Kuroo has been about their new bespoke outfits. He’s been pretty excited about clothes in general; while Kei has opted to wear pretty much the same clothes during their time on the ship, Kuroo spent every morning deliberating over different outfits and pestering Kei for his input. Kei endured it all with great patience.

“C’mon, Tsukishima!”

Cards forgotten, Kuroo grabs Kei by the arm and pulls him along down to their quarters. He throws the cabin door open and rushes to the bed.

“This one’s mine.” He grabs the stack with something red folded at the bottom. “I wanted red.”

“You can slow down, you know,” Kei says, but Kuroo is already pulling his clothes off, and Kei quickly turns away.

Kei only made one request to Washio regarding the dress he would receive, and a quick inspection shows it matches his criteria, so he wastes no time pulling it on while Kuroo _oohs_ and _ahhs_ at his own clothes behind him.

Kei looks down at himself. The neckline of his dress is just low enough that the star sapphire pendant from Kuroo can nestle against Kei’s bare skin without the distraction of fabric—and that was all Kei wanted, really, but the rest of the dress is gorgeous, too. It’s dark blue, close-fitted and solid-colored from chest to upper-thigh. His long sleeves are sheer, and the same sheer material extends from the fabric at his hips, falling all the way down to his ankles. Something in the fabric seems to sparkle.

Dark knee-high boots stand beside the bed. Kei pulls them on, then turns to see Kuroo’s progress. He’s mostly dressed by now, and he gives the red frock coat in his hands a final once-over before he pulls it on.

“I can’t believe Bokuto did this for us,” Kuroo says, turning around, “He—”

Kuroo doesn’t finish his sentence, but Kei hardly notices, slammed in the face by Kuroo’s… everything. He’s wearing a fine white button down with black accents. His pants are a rich black and close-fitting, and they disappear into mid-length boots. Kei recalls Bokuto swearing up and down that the pants would make Kuroo’s ass look great and Kuroo asking—to the dismay of Kei and Akaashi and absolute delight of Bokuto—if they would “ _ass_ -entuate his _ass_ -ets.” Kei tries not to think too much about that now. A deep red frock coat with black bars and gold buttons completes the outfit. Kei thought it’d be garish when Kuroo requested red, but he has to admit it looks good on him.

Kei isn’t sure how long he stares, but luckily Kuroo is similarly slack-jawed. Kei blushes to think that he might be the cause.

It’s Kuroo who breaks the silence in the end. “You’re… I mean, wow. Tsukishima, you’re beautiful.”

Kei averts his gaze. “Thank you,” he mumbles. His eyes slide back, but he can’t decide if it’s harder to look at Kuroo’s face or his body. “You look nice.”

Kuroo smiles. He holds his hand out, and Kei allows a small smile in return as he takes it.

When they emerge on the deck, the lights are on, the food is out, and the crew is waiting for them. Everyone claps, and Bokuto wolf whistles.

“Looking good!”

Kei wishes he could hide back in their room.

“Thanks to you,” Kuroo says. “Thanks to all of you, really.”

“Yeah, Bokuto didn’t actually do anything,” Konoha says. “Just ordered us to make two complete outfits in half the time it takes us to make one.”

“Hey! I was busy entertaining our esteemed guests!”

The others make lighthearted jabs that Bokuto graciously bears, and then they all settle down to eat.

Kei might miss this a little bit, eating on the floor of the deck with everyone and listening to Kuroo’s pleasant laughter as the crew regales them with tales of their various adventures. He’s been trying not to think too much of what will come next, but reality is fast catching up with him as the meal winds down.

He’s so desperate to prolong the inevitable for just a little bit longer than he doesn’t even argue when Bokuto announces that Akaashi and Kei have a special performance for everyone even though he definitely didn’t agree to any such thing.

“Sorry,” Akaashi says as they go below deck to get their violins. “I tried to tell him that just I could play. You don’t have to if you really don’t want to.”

“No,” Kei says. “It’s fine.”

Akaashi looks at him. “Are you okay?”

Kei laughs a little. It hurts. “Not really.”

“You haven’t told Kuroo yet, have you.”

Kei can’t meet his gaze. “No. I haven’t.”

“After we land tonight, you’ll only be a couple miles out from the Wall. What do you intend to do?”

 _I’m going to save his friend_ , he thinks, but the words don’t make it out of his mouth. He can’t handle Akaashi’s questions right now. He doesn’t even know how he plans to do it, exactly, only that he’s going to.

“He likes you,” Akaashi says.

“I like him, too,” Kei says. “That’s why this is so hard. Look, can we just… go up there and do this right now?”

“Sure. Though I imagine it might make your situation even more difficult.”

“What do you mean?”

Akaashi, cryptically, says nothing, but Kei finds out soon enough. Kuroo’s eyes don’t leave him once during the entire duet he and Akaashi play. Even when Kei looks away and tries to concentrate on his fingers pressing into the strings on the neck of the violin, he can feel the weight of his gaze.

When the song ends, Kuroo claps the loudest, which isn’t really surprising. What is surprising is that the rest of the crew applauds enthusiastically as well. Kei gives an awkward little bow.

“You played well,” Akaashi says.

Bokuto claps them both on the back. “Good job, you two!” He lowers his voice and says to Kei, “Now go get your man.”

Kei glances over to see Kuroo staring openly at him, and faces forward again. “I have to put my violin away.”

He sets the violin carefully back into its case, but he can’t stall any more after that because Bokuto pushes him towards Kuroo and turns away with an innocent whistle when Kei tries to glare at him.

“That was amazing!” Kuroo says once Kei finally looks at him. He’s smiling so wide.

“That was mostly Akaashi,” Kei demurs. He knows he can’t be that good after just a couple weeks. It was fun, though. He’s going to miss Akaashi. He might even miss Bokuto. Just a little bit.

Kuroo shakes his head. “I watched you! I heard you! You’re amazing.”

“I’m not…”

Kuroo opens his mouth, probably about to refute him again, but he’s cut off by a low, long note.

Kei and Kuroo look over and see Akaashi sitting on a barrel, eyes closed and a small smile on his lips as he plays a beautiful piece.

Kuroo turns to him. “Do you want to dance? Because I’m better now than the first time you saw me, and—”

“Okay,” Kei says.

“—I promise I won’t kick you—wait, okay? Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

He knows Kuroo is better now. Akaashi has been teaching both of them, on account of Bokuto being a good dancer but a terrible instructor. But even if Kuroo was still as terrible as the first time Kei saw his attempt to dance with Bokuto, he knows he wouldn’t have been able to deny Kuroo asking him for a second time.

He holds out his hand, and Kuroo reaches out so fast that he misses and their knuckles bump together before their fingers find each other. They walk to the middle of the deck, and Kei can hear Kuroo mumbling the steps to himself. Kei looks at his face, pinched in concentration, and suppresses a smile.

When they begin to dance, Kei assumes the lead role.

“Uh.” Kuroo’s face is blank in surprise.

“I think there will be less casualties this way,” Kei says. “Akaashi also taught you how to follow, right?”

Kuroo groans. “He told you how much I suck at leading, didn’t he.”

“He did suggest that maybe this way you would actually be able to enjoy the dance.”

Kuroo concedes to the point, and Kei leads them in a slow waltz, carefully going through all the steps Akaashi taught him. Kuroo’s hand is warm in his and he looks into Kei’s eyes the whole time, a small smile on his face that Kei can’t help but mirror.

For a breathless moment, everything melts away until the world feels like just the two of them. Dancing with Kuroo, beautiful and kind Kuroo, here in the Sky Realm, beneath the endless vast, Kei has never felt closer to home. He feels so light, as if unbound from his physical form, while at the same time so full up that he can barely contain the starlight in him.

This might be even better than home.

He wants to live in this moment forever.

Kuroo stares at him, and Kei only realizes how strongly he’s shining when he sees the light reflected off Kuroo’s face.

“You’re so incredibly beautiful,” Kuroo says.

Kei ducks his head.

“It’s true,” Kuroo says earnestly.

He draws in a breath, about to say more, and Kei feels a sick twist in his stomach.

Their moment was just that—a moment. Kei doesn’t get to keep it. It’s not hard to see that Kuroo likes him—never mind Akaashi, even Bokuto noticed—but he doesn’t love him. Rather, he can’t afford to love him. He’s here for Kenma, and Kei regrets that he might have distracted Kuroo from his goal.

He doesn’t regret falling in love, though.

Kei stops dancing. He steps forward and wraps his arms around Kuroo. Kuroo stands stock-still, like he’s afraid to move.

“Tsukishima?”

Kei pulls away. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Just… for being you.”

Kuroo stares at him, mouth parted. “Tsukishima, I—”

Kei looks away. “You must be eager to see Kenma again.”

Remind him why he’s here. This crush Kuroo has on him is trivial; Kei’s life isn’t worth the life of his family.

“What? I mean, of course, but what…”

“Good. He’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

Kuroo doesn’t say anything for a moment. “And then you’ll go home, right?”

Kei hesitates. Kuroo will find out the truth soon enough anyway, but he still doesn’t want to say it. He doesn’t know if he can bring himself to say it.

“Tsuki—”

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m going home.”

Another silence, even more painful than the last.

“Excuse me,” Kei says. “I want to be alone for a bit.”

“Oh.” Kuroo’s voice is lost and small. Kei hates it. “Okay. Yeah.”

Kei turns around and walks, just barely keeping himself from running the whole way back to their room.

 

* * *

 

Bokuto takes Tetsurou down to his office. He says he has some presents for him before they leave, but Tetsurou can hardly pay attention as Bokuto rummages around behind his desk.

His chest has been aching since Tsukishima disappeared after their dance.

Maybe it was stupid to hope for something, but hoped he had. It’s just… Tsukishima has been softer with him these past couple weeks, a little less tense, a little more talkative. He smiles when Tetsurou laughs at his jokes, listens attentively when Tetsurou talks, lets Tetsurou hold his hand when they’re in bed and he can’t fall asleep.

And when they danced, the way Tsukishima shone…

That shining, it’s happened off and on the past few days, usually just a soft illumination of his skin. Tetsurou isn’t sure why it happens and doesn’t want to ask in case, like, he shouldn’t. But he can’t ignore how stunning Tsukishima looks with that glow around him, and the way it shines through the sheer parts of his new dress looks like he’s sparkling.

None of that compares to when they danced, though. Tsukishima shone so bright, so much brighter than he ever had before, and it looked like a physical manifestation of what Tetsurou was feeling in his own heart, and he wondered if it was at all possible that Tsukishima was experiencing even a fraction of what Tetsurou was feeling at that moment.

But that hadn’t been the case at all.

He shouldn’t have asked for a dance. He was too greedy, and Tsukishima figured out his worthless feelings. He figured out that Tetsurou is in love with him, but he’s an immortal star, he’s an incomprehensible being, and he doesn’t want someone like Tetsurou. Tetsurou has nothing to offer him, and he’s already giving him the impossible. He can’t ask for more. He knows he can’t, but it still hurts.

It’d just been so easy to fall in love with him.

“Here.” Bokuto pops back up from behind his desk and drags Tetsurou from his heartbroken musing. He holds out a sheathed sword. “A little nicer than the worn-out practice swords, isn’t it?”

Tetsurou takes it. The hilt is golden, inlaid with rubies. “Bokuto, this is way too nice. You didn’t have to…”

“It’s my pleasure! And I’ve got something else for you, too.”

“Bokuto—”

Bokuto forces a bottle of crackling lightning into Tetsurou’s hands. “Take it.”

“No, come on, I thought lightning was super valuable.”

“It’s a gift from a friend.” Bokuto waves a dismissive hand, then leans in and lowers his voice conspiratorially. “More importantly, how’s it going between you and Tsukishima? You’re totally head over heels for him, man.”

“Am I that obvious?” Tetsurou smiles ruefully. “He’s beautiful, and incredible, and… Well, it doesn’t matter, because he doesn’t feel the same.”

“What? No way!”

“Yeah.”

“No, but I swear—”

Tetsurou throat feels tight. “He doesn’t,” he says. “And it’s okay. I mean, I only came looking for him in the first place so I could save my friend.”

Bokuto’s face falls with a jarring abruptness, and Tetsurou feels his own heart thud in anxious response.

“Wait, what?” Bokuto says.

“Uh,” Tetsurou says. “What?”

“Just wanna make sure I have this right. You were planning on using Tsukishima’s powers to heal your sick friend?”

“Uh,” Tetsurou says again. “Yeah, that’s pretty much exactly what I said.”

“Oh no,” Bokuto says. The way his mouth is turned so dramatically down in a pout would be comical if Tetsurou wasn’t feeling sick to his stomach.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Bokuto hunches over, tugs at his hair with both hands, and makes a frustrated _aaargh_ noise. Then his hands freeze and he lets out a long, resigned sigh.

“Maybe you’ve heard that stars can cure ills. Well, you hear a lot of things when you’re a trader. You learn the truth behind myths,” he says, straightening up. His voice is kind of quiet—which means it’s normal volume for everyone else—and so, so sad. “There’s this saying, _no one can live forever, except for they who possess the heart of a star_. I didn’t realize Tsukishima was a star at first, but the shining’s a dead giveaway.”

His face takes on a vicious edge, and he looks, for the first time since Tetsurou met him, truly dangerous. Even when he confronted and arrested them the day they met, that’d been some sort of grandstanding. Now Tetsurou thinks that maybe the fearsome sky pirate captain thing isn’t just an act, and he’s glad Bokuto’s rage isn’t directed at him. His chest tightens in anticipation of what Bokuto is about to say.

“That’s the truth, Kuroo. What people do to fallen stars. They kill ‘em, and they eat their hearts so they can live forever.”

Tetsurou can’t breathe. “But… but Tsukishima knows I wanted his powers to heal Kenma. Why didn’t—if that’s the case, why didn’t he tell me? Why come with me at all?”

To save Kenma he has to kill Tsukishima?

No. No, there has to be another way. He can’t. He can’t do that. He’d never do that.

But he can’t let Kenma down either.

Shit, and he’d come so far. Kenma is a couple miles’ walk away. What is he going to do?

And why didn’t Tsukishima tell him?

“Are you sure?”

Bokuto frowns. “Well, stars are super rare. I’ve heard it around, but… It’s not like I’ve ever met one or know for sure.”

He seemed pretty sure a moment ago. Tetsurou swallows hard against the lump in his throat. “He said he’d help me. He wouldn’t say that if—right?”

“You’re right,” Bokuto says with a forced half-laugh. “He must know something we don’t.”

“Yeah.” Tetsurou nods, mostly to himself. “Yeah, I’m sure he does. It’ll be fine.”

***

Tetsurou’s not sure it’ll be fine.

After he and Tsukishima disembark from the skyship, each towing a bag of gifts for Kenma from the skycity, the air between them is awkward. Tsukishima isn’t shining anymore, not at all, and he follows a couple steps behind Tetsurou, quiet.

The village they’re in could be an echo of Tetsurou’s own. It’s small and unassuming, and nothing about it stands out. After spending so much time on a skyship and visiting a city in the sky, it almost feels like Tetsurou is back in his own world where nothing happens, magical or otherwise.

But Tsukishima is still trailing awkwardly behind him not saying anything and Bokuto’s words are still ringing in his ears and Tetsurou can’t go home, not yet.

They walk in silence until Tetsurou spots a building that still has a light on in the front window. _The Cat’s Nap Inn_ , says the sign above the door.

“Here,” he says.

A bell tinkles as he pushes the door open, and the person behind the counter looks up.

“Hi, welcome!”

“Cat,” Tetsurou says, staring at the man’s ears which are large and triangular and fuzzy and stick out through his silver hair.

“No, that’s just the name of the inn. My name’s Lev,” the innkeeper, who is definitely some sort of cat person, says.

Lev. That’s an unusual name, and yet why is it so familiar? Lev. Lev Lev Lev—

“Yaku’s Lev?”

Lev jumps up so fast that the chair he was sitting on clatters to the ground. He’s tall, even taller than Tsukishima, his waist easily clearing the countertop when he leans forward, green eyes wide and eager, and Tetsurou can see that not only does Lev have feline ears, he has a fluffy silver tail.

Tetsurou has so many questions.

“You’re from the same place as Yaku? How is he? Can you tell him to visit? He said he would come back, but he never did.”

“Huh?” Tetsurou says. He’s still caught up on the tail thing. “Oh, uh, Yaku’s fine.” Seriously. So many questions. But he has more important things to worry about, so his curiosity will have to wait. “Sorry, but it’s late. Do you have any rooms available?”

Lev tilts his head. “I think so.”

“You think so?”

“I’m watching the inn for my sister while she’s out of town. We don’t get a lot of travelers, so she said it would be okay. I don’t even know how much a room costs.” He frowns.

“Well, uh, I have some coins here. Is this enough?”

By the way Lev’s eyes bug out, Tetsurou is guessing he offered way too much, but Lev swipes it all up before he can take any back.

“Well, I’m not sure that’s enough,” Lev says, “but I’ll make an exception if you promise to tell Yaku to come visit me.”

Tetsurou boggles at how someone can lie so absolutely terribly and confidently at once, but he doesn’t need the money and it’s a simple enough ask. Plus, Lev has unknowingly given Tetsurou _so much_ teasing material, it’s probably a fair trade in the end. “Yeah, sure.”

Lev grins smugly. “One bed or two?”

“One,” Tetsurou says automatically before realizing that Tsukishima would probably prefer two beds now that he has the option.

Before Tetsurou can ask Tsukishima, Lev herds them upstairs and into a small room that’s empty save for one bed, a nightstand, and a small desk. “There’s oil in the nightstand if you’re planning to… you know. Have fun!”

And with a cheery wave, he’s gone.

Shit, now Tetsurou really wishes he’d asked for two beds, because they really could have done without that last remark. Tetsurou hopes his face isn’t red. He sets down his bag down by the desk and Tsukishima follows suit.

Tsukishima doesn’t look at him as he sits at the edge of the bed. “Can we sleep now?”

“Yeah—wait, no!” Tetsurou rounds on him. “Tsukishima.”

“What?” Tsukishima looks up at him, wary.

“What exactly are you going to do to heal Kenma?”

Tsukishima’s eyes widen and he turns away. “Um…”

“ _No one can live forever, except for they who possess the heart of a star_ ,” Tetsurou recites, and Tsukishima flinches. Tetsurou’s chest feels so, so heavy. “Bokuto told me, right before we left. When were you going to tell me where your powers come from, huh?”

Tsukishima shrugs. He’s still not looking at him. “It’s not like it would change anything.”

“What do you mean it wouldn’t change anything? It changes everything, or do you really think I’d be okay with killing you?”

Tsukishima stands suddenly, and steps forward. Tetsurou takes a half a step back before he remembers himself and stands his ground.

“Why not?” Tsukishima’s voice is chilling. “Kenma is the most important person to you, right? You’d do anything for him, right? I’m just some guy you met a few days ago. I’m nobody to you. My life should be a small price to pay for his, isn’t that right?”

“How—how could you say that?” Tetsurou grabs Tsukishima’s shoulders. Tears sting his eyes and he forces the words out over the block in his throat. “How could you say you’re nobody? I care about you so much, Tsukishima. I think—no, I know I love you.” His stomach swoops saying it, but it wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be happy. He’s not supposed to be crying devastated when he says, “I’m in love with you.” He squeezes Tsukishima’s shoulders. “How could you think I’d be okay with—how are _you_ okay with this?”

Tsukishima eyes are wide, lips parted slightly in surprise. “I knew you liked me, but I didn’t think you would be in love with me,” he says slowly. His face hardens into a glare. “I didn’t think you’d be so stupid as to fall in love with me.”

“What?”

Tsukishima deflates, shoulders going limp, and he shrugs Tetsurou off of him.

“I hated you at first.” He turns away. “I thought you wanted my heart for yourself, for immortality. But then I found out that you came all this way to try and save your friend. Even though you didn’t know about our world. Even though you didn’t know for sure if magic was real. You came anyway, for him.

“I’ve lived a long, long time, but until now I’ve never loved anyone as much as you love Kenma. Until now, my heart has been empty. But…” He looks back to Tetsurou, and now he’s smiling, a small, heartbreaking smile. He places a hand over his chest. “I think I get it now. What it means to love someone so much. I want to help you, Kuroo. I want to save your friend, no matter the cost.”

Tetsurou gasps for breath, sucking in air past the burn in his throat. He’s crying in earnest now. “You… love me… back? Even though I have nothing to offer?”

Tsukishima touches his cheek, unbothered by the stream of tears flowing down them. Tetsurou whimpers, brings his hand up to cover Tsukishima’s and presses into his warm touch.

“You offer your love,” Tsukishima says, “though far too freely. You’ve dedicated so much to Kenma, you shouldn’t have room for anyone else, and still you love me.”

Tetsurou closes his fingers around Tsukishima’s hand. “I do love you. I really do. I can’t choose between you and Kenma, I won’t.” He draws a shuddering breath, doesn’t really think as he talks, just wants to say something to fix this, to make it okay somehow. “This was a long shot to begin with, I knew that, so it’s no big deal. I’ll figure something else out.”

“You don’t really believe—”

Tetsurou cuts him off with a kiss.

Tsukishima’s mouth falls open in a startled gasp. Tetsurou presses closer and winds his arms around Tsukishima’s back. He doesn’t want to think, not about anything. He just wants this, to take this, to inhale it, to suffuse himself with it.

Just this.

“Please don’t,” he whispers. “Please, can I just have this, have you right now.”

“Okay,” Tsukishima says, his voice equally soft. “Okay.”

Tsukishima cups Tetsurou’s jaw, curls his fingers around the back of his neck and kisses him. He leads them backwards, and their teeth knock together when Tsukishima stops and pitches forward suddenly after his legs hit the back of the bed, but Tetsurou doesn’t stop to comment, just pushes Tsukishima down onto the bed and climbs on top of him, knees braced on either side of his thighs.

“Shit.” Tetsurou scrubs his face with his hands. His nose is plugged up from crying and it’s kind of hard to breathe. “I’m so gross right now.”

“You’re fine,” Tsukishima says. “Unless you want to stop?”

The red flush on Tsukishima’s face seems to be highlighted by the soft shine emanating from his body, and white-hot need burns deep in Tetsurou’s belly.

“Definitely not.”

Tsukishima brings his arm up and pulls him in. He slides his tongue into Tetsurou’s mouth and Tetsurou kisses back desperately. He pushes his leg between Tsukishima’s thighs and shivers when he feels the hardness between them. He breaks the kiss and gulps air in through his mouth and pushes his leg down. Tsukishima whimpers and digs his fingers into Tetsurou’s shoulder blades.

Tetsurou kisses Tsukishima’s cheek and then draws back, swings his legs over the side of the bed and peels his coat off. He throws it to the floor with a quick mental apology to Bokuto’s crew who had worked so hard on it.

As he works on unbuttoning his shirt, Tsukishima moves to sit beside him and pulls off his long, long boots to reveal his long, long legs. Tetsurou tears his gaze away and quickly strips out of the rest of his clothes.

He goes for the nightstand drawer and fumbles for the phials of oil. When he turns back, Tsukishima is naked and in the process of folding his dress. Tetsurou would tease him about it, but he gets distracted when he sees that Tsukishima really does shine all over. It might be the light, but his skin is so pale and smooth and flawless and Tetsurou’s throat runs dry.

“You know what you said about stars not eating and stuff because you don’t have bodies? Does that, uh, mean this is your first time, um…”

“Yes,” Tsukishima says, calm as you please and setting his folded dress on the nightstand beside his glasses.

“I see.”

Tsukishima smirks. “I know the details of giving and receiving sexual pleasure.”

Tetsurou’s face is flaming.

“Cool. Awesome. Totally.” He runs his hands through his hair. “Just, you know. If it’s your first time, I wanna take care of you.”

Tsukishima’s smirk softens into a gentle smile. “Look at you, you’re a mess.”

He touches Tetsurou’s cheek, heedless of the dried-out tear tracks. Tetsurou exhales, shaky.

“Let me take care of you.” Tsukishima kisses him, no tongue, just a firm press of soft lips against his own. “Just tell me what you want.”

Tetsurou swallows and nods.

They move back to the bed. Tsukishima pours oil over his palm and wraps his fingers around Tetsurou’s cock. It’s a little cold, but Tsukishima’s touch sets him on fire, and Tetsurou inhales sharply when he slides his hand down.

He dips his head to Tsukishima’s neck, scrapes his teeth over the skin. Tsukishima gasps and his hand tightens around Tetsurou’s cock. Tetsurou bites down on his shoulder to muffle his moan.

He brings his hand over Tsukishima’s and guides him up and down until he finds a rhythm he likes, and then his hands go to Tsukishima’s thigh.

“More,” he whimpers. “Just like that.”

Tsukishima strokes him, and Tetsurou hides his face in Tsukishima’s neck and moans. His fingers dig hard into Tsukishima’s shoulder and thigh and he fights the mounting wave, bidding himself to last a little longer, have Tsukishima touch him a little longer.

Something is bright even behind his eyelids, and Tetsurou lifts them to see Tsukishima, shining brighter than Tetsurou has seen him, even brighter than when they danced together. He swears he can _feel_ it, its warmth.

He draws back a little. “Tsuki—Tsukishima.”

“Mm?” Even his golden eyes seem to be illuminated.

“When you shine, is that—does it happen because you’re happy?”

It makes sense when he thinks about it, thinks about the times he’s seen Tsukishima shining. He’s so bright and warm and gorgeous like this, Tetsurou can’t help but ask this time. He has to know.

“Well, there’s a bit more to it than that, but I suppose that’s the gist of it,” Tsukishima says. His hand slows its pace as he talks but doesn’t stop stroking up and down his cock, almost lazily, and Tetsurou struggles to focus. “That’s what stars do, after all—they shine.”

Tetsurou comes.

He pulls Tsukishima in, pressing as close as possible as he shakes through his orgasm. He stays there even after he’s spent, resting his forehead on Tsukishima’s collar and breathing heavily. Tsukishima’s chest heaves with his own breaths and he strokes Tetsurou’s hair with one hand.

“Did you really come from me saying that?” The question is, somehow, equal parts judgmental and wonder.

“Shut up.” Tetsurou pulls back and takes in Tsukishima’s glowing face. He could look at it forever.

Tsukishima’s eyebrows pinch in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“What?”

“You’re crying again.”

Oh.

“That’s sweat.”

“No, it’s not.”

Tetsurou sniffs. He wipes the corner of his eye with his finger. “These are happy tears. I’m happy because you’re so beautiful.”

Because he’s making Tsukishima shine. He’s making him happy.

Tsukishima still looks kind of concerned, and Tetsurou pushes him down on his back and arranges himself over him.

“Come on.”

Tetsurou shifts, lines their cocks up. Tsukishima rolls his hips and Tetsurou chokes back a cry.

Tsukishima stills. “Does it hurt?”

“A little,” he pants. “It’s fine, just oversensitive. I like it.”

Tsukishima licks his lips and swallows hard. Tetsurou tracks the movement. “Okay.”

They grind against each other and Tetsurou can’t bite back the moans of pleasure-pain. He’s a wreck, he knows, and he doesn’t care. Tsukishima trembles beneath him, and he keeps making these soft, needy little sounds. His fingers scrabble desperately across Tetsurou’s back. Tetsurou moves to kiss the noises out of his mouth, but it’s hard to coordinate his movements when his mind keeps blanking out, and after a minute his hips stutter and his legs refuse to hold him up anymore and he falls onto the bed on his side. His cock aches so good.

“Sorry,” he breathes. “Stay like that.”

He crawls back over to Tsukishima and lowers his head, presses his lips to his collarbone. A soft moan mingles into Tsukishima’s exhale and Tetsurou keeps going, trails kisses down his torso. Tsukishima’s stomach quivers beneath his mouth and he gasps when Tetsurou sucks at the vee of his hips.

“Get back up here,” Tsukishima says, hoarse.

Tetsurou complies, and Tsukishima pushes himself up on his elbows to meet him in a kiss. Tetsurou braces himself with one hand and snakes the other one down to wrap around Tsukishima’s cock. Tsukishima’s trembling legs dig into his sides.

“I didn’t know,” Tsukishima gasps, “anything could feel like this.”

Tetsurou moans and strokes faster until Tsukishima cries out and throws his arms around Tetsurou. His back is arched and tense and he comes hard and with a bright pulse of light that has Tetsurou reflexively closing his eyes.

Tsukishima relaxes all at once. His arms fall down to the sides of his pillow and his chest moves up and down in heavy breaths.

Tetsurou collapses next to him and pulls him into a hug. Tsukishima is sweaty, but so is he, so whatever. He especially doesn’t care when Tsukishima hugs him back.

“I love you,” Tetsurou says.

Tsukishima twitches a little in his arms, and Tetsurou knows that if he doesn’t say something, Tsukishima will bring up Kenma again.

He’s not ready to grapple with that yet.

“Sleep,” Tetsurou says. He pets Tsukishima’s hair. “Everything will be okay tomorrow.”

Tsukishima’s brows furrow. He definitely doesn’t believe him, but Tetsurou kisses him maybe a little desperately, and Tsukishima sighs.

“Okay.”

Tsukishima must be worn out despite his concern, because it doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep. Tetsurou looks at him for only a moment before he closes his eyes and thinks.

***

Somehow, Tetsurou manages to doze off for a bit, but after he wakes up again, he can’t fall back asleep. Now the sun creeps up over the horizon and his eyelids are heavy but he can’t stop thinking, can’t stop worrying about Kenma, and what he’s going to do, and after long hours of thinking himself into countless circles, an idea strikes and he sits up in bed.

Bokuto and Tsukishima said that a star’s heart has the power to grant immortality. But what if he doesn’t want immortality? He just wants to cure Kenma’s illness. In that case, maybe he doesn’t need Tsukishima’s heart. Maybe just a small part of him will work, like, like his hair.

Right? Hair holds power. It’s another story from Kenma’s parents, the myths about locks of hair serving as protective charms and blessings. From a star, it might be enough.

It has to be enough.

The more he thinks about it, the more sure he is that it’s going to work. And the more sure he is that it’s going to work, the more anxious he is to get on his way.

How long has it been since he left home? About two weeks now. Has Kenma been okay? Is he too late?

No. No. No, no, no, he can’t be too late. He won’t be.

He looks at Tsukishima. He’s still shining softly, even in his sleep. He looks so peaceful, so beautiful. He probably didn’t have very restful sleeps while they were aboard the skyship on account of Tetsurou waking up at any sudden movements. Tetsurou should let him sleep as much as possible, but the itch to see Kenma _now_ is growing stronger by the second.

And what if it doesn’t work?

It’ll work, it has to work—but what if it doesn’t? And what if Tsukishima tries to do something drastic? Tetsurou can’t let him do that. He needs time to think, to figure it out and talk things over with Kenma.

“Fuck it,” he whispers.

He’s going on ahead.

 

* * *

 

It’s cold when Kei wakes up. He snuggles deeper under the blanket and shifts closer to the middle of the bed in search of Kuroo’s warmth—

No one’s there.

Kei blinks the sleep from his eyes and sits up with a frown.

He pats the other side of the bed. It’s cold.

“Kuroo?”

No response.

Kei pulls his clothes on, hands shaking. Something’s wrong.

Kuroo’s clothes are gone, and the bags for Kenma under the desk. Sitting atop the desk is the wooden music box Kei bought for Kuroo back at the skycity. His stomach twists, hard.

He finds Kuroo’s coat, crumpled on the floor where he dropped it in front of the nightstand last night. Kei doesn’t expect to find anything in the pockets but he checks anyway. There’s nothing except for a bottle of lightning, probably a gift from Bokuto, nestled in the inner pocket.

Kei shivers. He pulls the coat on over his dress and, after a moment of vacillation, tucks the music box in the other inner pocket.

Once he gets his boots on, he practically runs downstairs. Lev is dozing at the check-in counter. Kei roughly shakes him awake.

“Excuse me.”

Lev lifts his head and looks at him blearily. “Whazzat?”

“Do you know where Kuroo is? The man I was with.”

“Oh, Yaku’s friend.” Lev scratches his head. “He left a while earlier. He told me to tell you, uhh… Oh, right. He said, ‘Sorry, but I need to see Kenma. I’m going on ahead.’”

Kei’s heart thuds to a stop. “Oh,” he says, his voice flat and distant to his own ears.

“If that’s all, I’m going back to sleep.” Lev’s head is already drooping.

“Yeah. That’s all.”

He walks woodenly out of the inn and leans against the outside wall.

Kuroo left. He really left.

Is he planning something? Or was this his plan all along, after finding out what he would have had to do to access Kei’s powers?

Kuroo loves him. He said that, and Kei believes him, but Kuroo also loves Kenma. And he’s known Kenma his whole life, so when it comes down to it, of course he would choose Kenma over Kei. He knows that, and he loves Kuroo regardless, and that’s why he was prepared to give himself up to save Kenma.

But Kuroo didn’t let Kei make that choice. He went back alone.

Why? Is this his solution? To choose Kenma, but still spare Kei?

But that’s so stupid. It’s so stupid, because Kei is a star and he’s stranded on earth. There’s nothing for him here. What is he supposed to do now?

His back drags against the wall as he sinks to the ground. It’s filthy, but he doesn’t care. He covers his face with his hands before the first sob rips out of his mouth.

Kuroo should have just killed him. At least that way Kenma could live a long, full life, like Kuroo always wanted him to.

But there’s another reason. A darker, more selfish reason that has nothing to do with Kenma, that Kei doesn’t want to acknowledge but has to admit.

 _He should have killed me_ , he thinks into his hands against the flood of tears. _He should have killed me, because leaving me alone like this—it doesn’t feel like mercy_.

“Tsukishimaaaaa!”

Kei bites his lip. He recognizes that voice, and if one is here the other must be as well, and Kei hates for either of them to see him like this.

“Tsukishima, we finally found you!”

A gust of wind ruffles Kei’s hair. Hinata lands with a soft tap in front of him, large black wings casting a shadow over Kei.

He inhales shakily and looks up.

Hinata peers down at him, eyes wide with concern. As expected, Kageyama stands beside him, hands in his jacket pockets, twin black wings arched.

“Are you okay?” Hinata asks. “Are you hurt?”

Kei stands. He turns his face away and scrubs furiously at his cheeks. “I’m fine.”

“Why are you crying?”

“None of your business.”

He moves to walk past them, and they both stretch their wings out to block him. He shoulders through the curtain of feathers.

“Leave me alone.”

So Kuroo made a choice. Kei can make one too. He’s going to march straight to Kuroo’s village and save Kenma and there’s nothing Kuroo can do to stop him.

Kageyama and Hinata follow. At least they have the tact to walk behind rather than beside him. Kei is mortified enough that his voice is stuffed up from crying; he doesn’t need them to see his red eyes and tearstained face as well.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Hinata says. “Where have you been?”

Kei grits his teeth. “I was on a skyship.”

“No way! You were in the Sky Realm the whole time? Geez!”

Does he have to be so loud? Kei wants to hit something.

“Why were you even looking for me,” he mutters.

“Because we were worried about you, idiot!” Hinata rushes to stand in front of him and Kei stops walking. “I was so scared when you fell.”

“You were—” Kei didn’t even know Hinata could feel fear, never mind for his sake, and yet there he is, all wide-eyed sincerity, his hands spread open in front of him.

“And,” Kageyama interjects loudly, “we think we know what happened to you.”

“What?”

“There’s this witch. Oikawa Tooru.”

Kei freezes.

Kindness, gentle eyes, warmth—and then a cruel smile, sharp like broken glass, and a glinting knife.

“You met him.” Kageyama’s voice is uncharacteristically soft.

Kei hates it.

“He almost got me,” he says, brittle. “What do you know about him?”

Kageyama moves to face him. “Years ago, he cast a powerful spell. He was trying to pull a star down to earth. But he messed up, and he only reached the Sky Realm.”

He pauses, face pinched. Kei can guess what happens next. He can see how the memory pains Kageyama, and he fidgets with his hands, unsure of what to say or what to do.

“He got me,” Kageyama says finally. “He pulled me down and he cursed my wings so I couldn’t fly. I only escaped because casting the spell had weakened his powers.”

“You mean you escaped because I rescued you,” Hinata says.

The tension in the air eases. Kageyama whacks Hinata with his wing. “Definitely not.”

“Definitely yes!”

Hinata jumps at Kageyama and they start half-wrestling while shouting at each other. Kei rubs his temple and raises his voice over their inane bickering.

“So, Oikawa recovered his powers and perfected his spell.”

“Wow, got it in one!”

The hairs at the back of Kei’s neck shoot up. He turns slowly to see Oikawa standing a few feet away. He smiles and waves genially—then his eyes narrow into slits and his smile turns poisonous.

“It took me a while to find you again.”

Kageyama and Hinata break off their fight immediately and move in sync to stand in front of Kei, wings raised.

Hinata raises his fists. “Stay away from Tsukishima!”

Oikawa ignores him and turns his gaze to Kageyama. “Tobio, it’s so good to see you again.” He raises an arm up in front of him, palm up. Green magic sparks at his fingertips. “Who’s your friend?”

Kei can’t move, just stands there, frozen, and watches as if in slow motion the way Oikawa’s fingers curl into a fist. Thick vines sprout from the ground and ensnare Kageyama and Hinata’s legs.

“Shit!” Kageyama tries to take off, but more vines shoot up and wrap around his wings and drag him to the ground.

The same thing happens to Hinata, and he gets yanked down to his knees. “Kageyama!”

Kei can’t breathe. He can’t move. He can’t help them. He can’t do anything as Oikawa directs his gaze towards him and slices his hand through the air. Invisible shackles bind Kei’s body and lift him from the ground.

Oikawa takes a step towards him, lips curled in a snarl.

“You’re not getting away this time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i made oikawa such an anime villain but you gotta do what you gotta do for fantasy AUs am i right
> 
> // [twitter](https://twitter.com/qorktree)


	4. Chapter 4

Kenma will be okay. He’ll be okay. Tetsurou’s plan will work and everything and everyone will be okay.

It’s a mantra Tetsurou repeats to himself as he power-walks the miles back to his village. He’d run if he wasn’t lugging two bags of books and board games for Kenma in either hand. He could have left them, he supposes, but if Tsukishima wakes up and decides to try and catch up, he doesn’t want him to have to carry all that stuff by himself.

Now that he’s gone, he feels kind of bad about leaving Tsukishima all alone. Hopefully he gets the message Tetsurou left with Lev, but just in case Lev forgets or something, Tetsurou left his music box on the desk. Tsukishima should know there’s no way he would ever leave that behind.

Anyway, best case scenario, Tsukishima gets a nice, long rest and Tetsurou is back before he even wakes up. It’s too late to turn back now, in any case, because he’s coming up close on the Wall. The early morning light bouncing off the stones makes it look a lot less ominous than it did when he left. His stomach clenches, not from any supernatural force, but his own anxiety.

It’s okay. Kenma will be okay, and Tsukishima will be okay, and everything and everyone will be okay.

As soon as he crosses over to the other side of the Wall, Tetsurou’s keep-it-together mantra falls apart and all the panic closes in at once because he’s back, and it’s been days and days but he’s back now, and he needs to see Kenma right fucking now. He hefts the bags up and runs.

It’s still pretty early, but Tetsurou has no compunctions about bursting into the house like he owns the place because—well, he lives there.

“Kenma!”

“Kuro!”

Tetsurou’s knees sag in relief at hearing Kenma’s familiar voice, and he leans his shoulder against the doorframe to steady himself. Kenma’s sitting on the couch with a blanket draped over his lap. He looks tired, but not much worse than usual.

“You’re okay,” Kenma says, and it’s evident in his voice that he’s just as relieved to see Tetsurou.

“Of course I’m okay, are you okay?”

Tetsurou crosses the room, drops his bags, and stoops down to hug him. Kenma wraps his arms around his back.

“I’m fine,” Kenma says.

“Kuroo, you’re back!”

Tetsurou straightens up and turns to see Yaku come in from the kitchen with a mug of steaming tea.

“Yaku! What are you doing here?”

He grabs Yaku’s arms and jostles him, and Yaku protests when some tea splashes out of his mug.

“You’re the one who told me to look after Kenma. Is that a sword?”

He points, and Tetsurou looks down. He’d honestly forgotten that the sword from Bokuto was still hanging on his hip in its sheath.

“Yeah, yeah it is. I have so many things to tell you guys. Like, so much. I don’t even know where to start. Okay.”

Tetsurou takes a deep breath. His brain is on overdrive, full up on all the things he’s seen on the other side of the Wall. The words jumble up in his mouth and he wishes he could just show them everything he’s been through.

“Okay. Start over. Kenma,” he says. “I missed you so much. Did you finish your book?”

“It’s been ages. Of course I finished the book.”

“Yeah, okay. How was it?”

“Well, the perp almost killed the main character like I thought, but her friend ended up intervening and saving her. I didn’t expect that, but I guess it was cool that she lived.”

“Oh, good on her friend for stepping in. It sounds like a good book, maybe I’ll read it if none of the good guys die.”

“But I just told you what happens.” Kenma frowns like he doesn’t get it, and Tetsurou can’t help his smile as he feels all over again how much he missed him.

“There’s a satisfaction in reading it that you can’t get from just hearing about it,” Tetsurou says sagely. He pats Kenma’s hair. Kenma shoves his hand away. “Anyway, I know how you are with books, of course, which is why I bought you a ton more.” He nudges the bag with his foot. “From a city on the other side of the Wall.”

Not just a city, but a _skycity_. Tetsurou has so much to say and not enough breath to say it.

“The other side… You really went.” Kenma’s voice is quiet, and he reaches out and takes hold of Tetsurou’s wrist. He doesn’t say more, but Tetsurou can tell what he’s thinking by the way his fingers squeeze, scared that he went and relieved he’s back safe.

He reaches up to pet Kenma’s hair, not in joking condescension this time. Kenma doesn’t push him away.

“I really went,” Tetsurou says. “I’m sorry if I scared you, but I’m back, and I’m okay. Hey, did Yaku tell you he’s been to the other side? Oh!” He gasps, pivots and points at Yaku.

“Hm,” Yaku says over the brim of his mug.

“I met Lev! He’s at the village you mentioned, watching the inn for his sister or something? He’s like a cat boy? You’re into that?”

Yaku coughs, and more tea spills over the edge of his mug. He’s not gonna get to drink any of it at this rate. “Shut up. He’s my friend—I was a teenager—he’s my _friend_.”

“Uh-huh, okay.” Tetsurou grins. “Well, your _friend_ misses you and wants you to visit him. He has no idea you turned into a real workaholic—actually, wait. Shouldn’t you be at the bakery by now?”

Yaku shrugs. “Kenma wasn’t feeling well last night, so I decided to close the shop today to keep an eye on him.”

Tetsurou doesn’t think he can keep up with all this mood whiplash. He swings back around to Kenma, good humor lost to the worry that immediately bubbles over in his chest, but Kenma just rolls his eyes.

“I’m fine now. Really. Both of you fuss too much.”

“Well, excuse me for worrying about you,” Tetsurou says.

Still, Kenma is usually forthright if he’s not feeling well, so he relaxes a little.

“If you actually had a regular sleeping schedule instead of staying up reading all the time, you’d probably be better off,” Yaku says.

“That’s true. Your living habits are probably even more atrocious when I’m not here.”

“Yeah, I’m all like, _Kenma, I think you should do this healthy thing_ , and he’s like, _What about I do the opposite of that?_ ”

“Ugh, now I have both of you worrying over me,” Kenma says. “Worry about him!” He points at Tetsurou. “He’s the one who ran off into the dangerous unknown chasing a fairytale.”

“Hey, you should be a little more grateful. Yes, I did brave dangers unknown, but I did, in fact, meet a fallen star.”

“Meet?” Kenma asks.

Tetsurou pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, where he’s kept the lock of Tsukishima’s hair that he cut before leaving the inn.

“Yeah, you’ll meet him too, but I kinda went on ahead because I was antsy and really needed to make sure you were okay. And hopefully see if this works.”

He opens the handkerchief and nearly drops it when he sees inside not Tsukishima’s pale gold hair, but a small mound of silver-gold powder.

“What—” he starts.

“Is that…” Kenma leans forward. “Stardust?”

Yaku also peers forward to look, but Tetsurou really does drop it now because he just remembered something important.

The Babylon candle didn’t work on this side of the Wall.

Magic doesn’t work on this side of the Wall.

Tsukishima can’t cross over to this world. If he does, he’ll turn to stardust, everything magical about him, his entire being, gone.

Heart in his throat, Tetsurou takes a moment to appreciate that his restlessness meant he came here first, alone.

But what if Tsukishima is on his way right now?

“I have to go. I have to go right now.”

“Kuro—”

“I’m sorry, Kenma, but he’s in danger.” He turns for the door. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

“Let me go with you.”

He’s pleading, desperate. Tetsurou has never heard him sound like this. But he doesn’t have time for this.

“No way,” he says. “Yaku, watch him.”

“Wait a—!”

But Tetsurou’s done waiting, and he bursts out the door before Yaku can finish speaking.

_Please_ , he thinks, running as fast as he can, _don’t let me be too late._

A quick glance shows that the area around the Wall seems undisturbed, and Tetsurou dashes through the gap without heed of any dreadful feelings.

He cups his hands around his mouth. “Tsukishima! Tsukishima, are you there?”

He’s probably overreacting. For all he knows, Tsukishima is still asleep in the inn. Still, Tetsurou won’t be able to relax until he’s seen him again and made sure he’s safe.

He runs. He wants to sprint, really, but he knows he won’t be able to sustain that, and so he forces a pace on himself so he can jog the couple miles back to the village. He glances about for Tsukishima just in case, but the landscape is deserted until he gets close to the village, and then he sees someone—or something?—moving up ahead.

Tetsurou really wants to keep running—he can see the village in the distance now—but he realizes that it’s two people struggling against a tangle of thick vines. And not just any people—they have wings. Skyfolk.

He has to help them. He can’t imagine what it must feel like to be bound to the ground when you belong in the sky. He can imagine how much he would hate being bound to the ground by vines, though; that’s a little more in reach, and Tetsurou knows he has to help, no matter how much he wants to book it to the village.

Tetsurou skids to a stop in front of them. “Are you guys okay?”

It’s a stupid question in retrospect, but he doesn’t know what else to say. He unsheathes his sword so he can do something more useful than ask questions with obvious answers.

“Stay still, I’m gonna cut you out.”

Both skyfolk stop struggling and stare at him. Tetsurou blanches at the droplets of blood on their wings and ankles.

He swallows and sets to work carefully cutting through the vines. “I’m Kuroo. Who are you guys?”

One of the skyfolk eyes him suspiciously, but the smaller one with the orange hair says, “I’m Hinata. This is Kageyama. Thank you for helping us.”

“Don’t go telling him everything, idiot,” Kageyama says. “What if he’s with Oikawa?”

“You’re the idiot, why would he be helping us if he’s with Oikawa? Now show some manners!”

“Oi-who?” Tetsurou says. “Wait.” He recognizes their names. “Do you guys know Tsukishima?”

“Yes!” Hinata says. “Oikawa captured him! He’s a nasty witch, even scarier than Kageyama!”

“I’m not scary—”

Bokuto’s words ring shrilly in Tetsurou’s ears.

_That’s the truth, Kuroo. What people do to fallen stars. They kill ‘em, and they eat their hearts so they can live forever._

Tetsurou has only met one witch, but whether or not this Oikawa is the same person or someone even half as scary, it makes no difference.

“He’s in danger,” Tetsurou says. “Do you know where he is? Can you take me to him? Please!”

He cuts the last vine, and Kageyama and Hinata stretch out their wings. Hinata bends over and rubs his ankles, then frowns at the smear of blood across his hands, which Tetsurou thinks is a pretty mild expression considering his wounds.

Kageyama looks Tetsurou over. “You any good with that sword?”

“Yes,” Tetsurou says, even though the few swordplay lessons with Bokuto definitely have not prepared him for any real combat. It doesn’t matter though, because he’s going to help Tsukishima.

He has to.

“We’ll take you!” Hinata says. “We’re going anyway. And don’t argue, Kageyama, we’ll need all the help we can get.”

“I wasn’t going to argue, dumbass. Let’s go. We can’t waste any time.”

Kageyama sweeps around behind Tetsurou and slides his arm around his back, under his shoulders. Before Tetsurou can ask what he’s doing, Hinata nods and hooks his arms under Tetsurou’s knees, and he yells as he’s picked up off his feet.

“What—” he starts, and then, with a powerful push of their wings, they launch into the sky.

Tetsurou clutches at the nearest thing he can reach, which is Kageyama’s shirt.

“I’m gonna die!” he screeches as the ground falls further and further away at a rapid pace.

“If you keep fidgeting like that, you’ll fall and then you really will die,” Kageyama says.

“Not helping!”

“It’s fine!” Hinata says. “We won’t drop you. Kageyama’s just being mean.”

“Hey,” Kageyama says.

“What?”

“Shut up.”

“You shut up!”

“Can you tell me more about who we’re going up against?” Tetsurou asks, because he has a feeling they won’t stop without intervention.

They both fall silent, demeanors flipping like a switch.

“Oikawa is a powerful witch,” Kageyama says. “We think he’s the one who cast a spell to make Tsukishima fall in the first place.”

“What? How are we supposed to stop someone as powerful as that?”

“The spell must have taken a lot out of him,” Kageyama says. “He’s still strong, but nowhere near as usual. Some years ago, he tried to do the same thing, but he couldn’t reach the Court of Stars and pulled me down from the Sky Realm instead.”

“And then I saved you,” Hinata says.

“You’re so obsessed with that. You hardly helped, so don’t get a big head.”

“I helped a lot!”

“You crashed into the Wall and I had to help _you_!”

“Whoa, wait a sec,” Tetsurou says. “You’re the one that broke the Wall?”

“You know about that?” Hinata chuckles nervously. “Oops.”

Kageyama snorts. “Yeah, this idiot flew down to the Earthly Plane at an insanely high speed and busted the Wall.”

“That explains the scorch marks, I guess, but damn, how resilient are you?”

“He’s got to have something going for him,” Kageyama says.

“Shut up, you jerk!”

“What do you know about the Wall?” Tetsurou asks doggedly. “I tried to bring some of Tsukishima’s hair over to my side and it turned into stardust.”

“Wait, your side?” Hinata says. “You’re from the other side?”

“Yes?”

“Did you lose anything?”

“Uh… What?”

“I don’t think it works the other way around,” Kageyama says. “We’re the ones with something to lose.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tetsurou says. “Explain, please?”

“Hinata,” Kageyama says. “Do you remember what happened when you crashed into the Wall?”

“Umm…” He thinks for a moment. “It felt like my wings were burning.”

“Right.” Kageyama glances down at Tetsurou. “Things exist in our world that don’t exist in yours.”

Tetsurou thinks he follows now. “Magic.”

“Yeah. If Hinata or I tried to cross into your world, we would lose our wings, but we could probably still go over. We might get our wings back if we crossed back into our world, or we might not; obviously, no one wants to test it. But the point is we’re mortals, and Tsukishima is a star. Stars are immortal beings with no true mortal form, so it makes sense that he wouldn’t maintain his physical form if he crossed into your world.”

“Oh,” Tetsurou says.

Sometimes, like now, Tetsurou realizes all over again just how out of his grasp Tsukishima is, how incomprehensible he is. It’s strange to think, but Tetsurou doesn’t even know if he can call Tsukishima human.

And yet, he said he loves him. He smiled at him so heartbreakingly when he said he wanted to help Kenma. He’s sweet and awkward and fragile and his heart—his metaphorical heart, not his magical and powerful literal heart—is so very human and Tetsurou loves him so, so much.

He’s going to save them both. He’s going to save Tsukishima and he’s going to save Kenma. Because he’s selfish, and he wants to have both. Logic has nothing to do with it. He’s going to find a way, because he loves them both and he has to.

“Hurry,” Tetsurou says.

Hinata’s arms tighten around Tetsurou’s legs. “Yeah.”

 

* * *

 

Kei struggles vainly against the straps binding him to the cold metal table.

“Why don’t you just give up?” Oikawa cuts his knife through the air. “Even if you escape somehow, I’ll find you again.”

Kei doesn’t respond. He grits his teeth and strains against the straps.

He doesn’t want to die, not here. He’d been prepared to sacrifice himself for Kuroo, but now with his back to the wall he remembers just how terrifying it was when Oikawa had nearly gotten him before.

He’s selfish after all. He wanted to be better, but in the end, he doesn’t want to die. He doesn’t want to sacrifice himself. He wants to live and he wants to see Kuroo again. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t deserve him. That’s why he’s going to die right here, alone.

“Let him go, you monster!”

Kei starts at the new voice. He thought he was the only one here, but now he cranes his neck and sees a woman chained to the far wall. She’s gaunt, with long dark hair. The shackles on her wrist glow with some sort of magic.

Oikawa rolls his eyes. “Quiet, or you’re next.”

So Kei won’t die alone, but with yet another person he can’t protect.

“Someone will stop you,” she says.

Oikawa’s laugh is as sharp and jagged as his smile. “No one is coming.” He turns to Kei. “You were able to manipulate my spell so your friend could find you last time, but there’s no enchantment here, nothing you can do to help yourself.”

He makes a show of examining the blade of his knife and runs a finger over the flat of it. “I do still wish I could have killed you while you were shining,” he laments. “It was a very difficult spell to make you fall and I hate to have to do it again.”

Again?

“Isn’t one enough for you?”

Oikawa looks at him with an ugly sneer.

“No.” His voice, flippant moments ago, is hard and brittle now. “Again and again, I’ll do it. I’ll live until he comes back to me, and then I’ll do it again so he can live forever, too, and death will never separate us again.”

_Love_ , Kei thinks, and almost wants to laugh, or maybe cry.

He really wishes he could see Kuroo one more time.

There’s a loud crash. Oikawa spins around with a muttered curse and Kei strains to see what’s happening.

The front door has been busted down and Hinata and Kageyama stand in the frame, breathing heavily. Someone shoves their way between their wings to stand at the front, and Kei’s stomach flips when he recognizes who it is.

“Kuroo!”

How did he know?

No, it doesn’t matter. Kuroo came back for him. He came to help him. Battered hope rises in Kei’s chest.

“Tsukishima!” Kuroo calls back, voice torn between relief and worry.

There’s a shocked gasp, and the woman chained to the wall says, “Tetsurou!”

Kuroo’s jaw drops when he sees her. “Auntie?”

Oh, Kei realizes. She must be Kenma’s mother, on the other side of the Wall and alive after all. His stomach clenches. He can’t let either of them die, but what can he do in his position?

Oikawa moves to stand between Kuroo and Kenma’s mom. “You again,” he says. “Looks like you’ve made friends.”

“So it is you.” Kuroo draws his sword. “Get away from him and Kasumi.”

“Why don’t you make me?”

Before Kuroo can respond, Hinata screams, a wordless, guttural sound, and he hurls himself at Oikawa. Oikawa takes a startled step back and Kageyama lunges for him, too.

Kuroo looks between Kei and Kasumi, a torn expression on his face. He takes a step towards Kei, then hesitates, looking back at Kasumi.

“Protect the star!” she says.

Kuroo rushes to his side, face set. “Tsukishima.”

Kei can hardly breathe. “You came back.”

“Of course I came back.” Kuroo starts tugging at the straps binding Kei down. “You thought I wouldn’t?”

Before Kei can respond, a cry of pain and a dull thud draws their attention to the fight.

“Hinata!” Kageyama shouts.

Hinata lays crumpled on the ground. Kageyama starts for him, and Oikawa whips his hand out and throws a familiar green-black bolt of magic towards him. Kageyama just barely manages to bring his wing up to shield himself, and he staggers under the blow. Oikawa sends three more in quick succession, pushing Kageyama back and back until he loses his footing and falls to his hands and knees.

“Stop,” Kageyama says, voice pained. He looks desperately to Hinata is lying limp some feet away.

“None of you can ever hope to beat me,” Oikawa says. “Understand yet?”

“Sorry,” Kuroo says. “I don’t know how to take a hint.”

He raises his sword. Kei doesn’t know all the details of how Kuroo’s swordplay lessons with Bokuto went, but he doesn’t think Kuroo should be waving that thing around. Still, he’s not going to say it when he’s restrained and Oikawa is right there.

It ends up not mattering, because Oikawa blasts his wrist and sends the sword flying away before Kuroo can even take a step forward.

Kuroo clutches his wrist. “Dammit!”

“Kuroo!” Kei struggles against his bonds to no effect. He’s useless. He’s so useless.

Oikawa seems to freeze for a moment, looking between Kei and Kuroo, and then he charges forward, knife raised.

Kuroo turns to him and reaches into Kei’s coat—Kuroo’s coat, really—but Oikawa is almost upon them.

“Kuroo!”

Kuroo spins around to face Oikawa. There’s a soft popping sound and the room flashes in a bright blue light. Loud crackling floods Kei’s ears. The air is heavy with static, and the hairs on Kei’s arms prickle. Oikawa cries out in pain as he’s physically thrown back. His body collapses to the floor and he doesn’t move.

Kuroo turns back to Kei, eyes wide, holding a now-empty lightning bottle.

“Kuroo,” Kei says. He feels stupid repeating his name over and over, but he can’t seem to say anything else.

Kuroo works again to undo the straps holding Kei down. “I’m sorry I left. I was just—I had to see Kenma, it’d been so long and I was just scared, and I thought you were gonna catch up, but I’m so glad you didn’t, because—I mean, so much happened, but I just—I’m so glad to see you right now, I’m so glad you’re okay.” He undoes the last strap and yanks Kei roughly up into a hug. “I love you.”

“Oh,” Kei says.

Overwhelmed, Kei looks away to check on the others. Kageyama is crouched beside Hinata, who is sitting up now and is rubbing his head. Kasumi, watching them with a relieved expression, looks uninjured. All Kei can think is, _Thank goodness they’re okay_.

He turns back to Kuroo and meets his waiting gaze. Kei’s heart is in his throat but he’s shining so strongly it feels like he’s back in the Court of Stars, and he knows exactly what to say.

Safety, comfort, home, happiness—all these things make his heart radiate, and Kuroo gives him all of them.

“I love you, too. Thank you,” he says, “for saving me.”

“Hey,” Kuroo says, soft. He leans forward.

“Look out!” Kasumi yells.

Like a shot, Kuroo pushes in front of Kei, arm raised to keep him from moving forward.

“So annoying!” Oikawa brandishes Kuroo’s sword. “But keep on shining, just like that.”

Oh, Kei will keep shining.

Oikawa loves someone to the point of destruction, and maybe Kei is no better, because he thinks of Kageyama cursed and grounded, Hinata scared, _anything_ happening to Kuroo, and he feels rage boil inside him until he’s nearly bursting at the seams of his skin with it. At the same time, a heavy sense of calm settles over him.

He knows what he has to do.

“Kuroo,” he says. “Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Just do it. Kageyama, Hinata, shields! Protect Kasumi!”

He glances at them; at his command, they jump in front of Kasumi and sweep their wings forward to cover themselves.

He looks back to Kuroo, making sure his eyes are shut. Kei grabs him and pulls him against his body. He holds him tight. “Keep them closed,” he says, and then, to Oikawa, “As you wish, I will shine.”

He exhales—and does.

He shines, more brightly than he thought he could on the Earthly Plane. He fills the room with his starlight and Oikawa lets out an ugly screech as Kei’s radiance burns him alive.

Kei is going to disintegrate him. He’s going to disintegrate him and he’s never going to hurt the people Kei loves ever again.

He closes his eyes and concentrates, thinks about Kuroo’s kindness, Kuroo coming back for him, his smile, and he feels his power increase, the manifestation of his love and protectiveness strengthening and flooding the entire room.

A sharp cry jerks Kei out of his reverie, the power of his starlight returning to him in a quick burst when he sees Kuroo’s pained expression.

“Got… me…”

Kei looks around frantically. Oikawa is gone, but sticking through Kuroo’s stomach, bloodied blade inches from Tsukishima, is his sword.

The strength escapes Kei’s body, and they both collapse to the ground. Kuroo leans heavily against Kei, the color drained from his face and breaths coming short and pained from his mouth.

“No.” Tears prick Kei’s eyes. “Kuroo, _no_.”

“Sorry,” Kuroo wheezes. “I’m sorry, Tsukishima. Fuck. Kenma. I’m so, so sorry Kenma. Sorry…”

“No,” Kei whispers. “Kuroo, please. You can’t.”

Hinata and Kageyama rush to their sides and put their hands on Kuroo’s torso, talking over each other. Kuroo won’t stop apologizing and Kasumi is calling out to them, too, and there’s just too much noise, and Kei cries out in frustration and sorrow and pushes his face against Kuroo’s. He presses their lips together desperately to shut him up and to feel him again, soft and warm, and no, please, _please_ , he can’t die, Kei would do _anything_ if only he wouldn’t die—

Kuroo gasps and pulls away in an unexpected surge of movement.

“Kuroo—”

“I. What just.” Kuroo pats his stomach. The fabric is torn but there’s no blood. The sword that had previously impaled him clatters harmlessly to the ground.

Kei stares. Even Hinata and Kageyama have been stunned into silence.

“Tetsurou?” Kasumi says.

“I’m okay.” Tetsurou raises his voice to answer her. “I don’t know what just…”

Kei reaches out to touch Kuroo and feel the evidence for himself. Kuroo’s stomach twitches under Kei’s fingers, but there really is no sign of any injury. If not for the hole in his clothes, it’s as if he was never stabbed at all.

He drags his finger delicately over Kuroo’s shirt and rests it above his heart. He lays his palm flat against it. In the relief that washes through him to feel the reassuring beat under his hand, Kei realizes the truth.

He looks up, and Tetsurou meets his eyes.

“Did you—” he says. “Does that mean—”

“We can save Kenma,” they say simultaneously.

Kei didn’t think Kuroo would realize so soon. Kei himself has no proof that it will work, only a sense of certainty that it will. He thought Kuroo would be more preoccupied with the fact that he was just saved from what seemed to be an inevitable death, but of course Kuroo’s foremost thoughts wouldn’t be on himself, but the people he cares about.

It’s why Kei fell in love with him, after all.

 

* * *

 

Tetsurou’s head is reeling from the fact that he’s alive, Tsukishima’s alive, _Kasumi_ is alive. Kasumi tells them how to remove her magical restraints, magical because she’s a _witch_ , and she’s _alive_.

“Kenma?” she asks, first thing when he gets to her side.

“He’s okay,” he reassures her. “He’s gonna be okay.”

“And you’re okay,” she says, hugging him the moment she’s free of her restraints. “Thank goodness. But why are you here, beyond the Wall?”

“The same reason as you, I’ll bet,” Tetsurou says. “Kenma.”

Kasumi nods, face solemn. “I never meant to be gone for so long.”

“I know. But we can go home now.” Tetsurou gestures to Tsukishima. “This is Tsukishima Kei. He’s a star.”

“I noticed. Thank you for protecting Tetsurou,” she says to him. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

Tsukishima dips his head. “I didn’t know either.”

“But you can save my boy?”

“Yes,” he says. “I believe I can.”

She closes her eyes and exhales, and when she opens her eyes again, Tetsurou can see that they’re a bit watery. She pauses for a moment and visibly collects herself before turning to Hinata and Kageyama and smiling.

They exchange introductions, and Tetsurou takes a moment to give her a good look-over. She doesn’t look visibly injured, but she’s haggard. She obviously hasn’t been eating or sleeping properly for a long time, and Tetsurou’s stomach clenches to think of how long she might have been in captivity, maybe even tortured.

A hand on his shoulder startles him, and he turns his head to see Tsukishima standing beside him and looking at him with gentle eyes, and Tetsurou wants to blurt _I love you_ again right there. He settles for a smile instead and leans his shoulder until it bumps against Tsukishima’s.

Kasumi looks back to Tetsurou. “Ready to go home?”

“So much yes,” Tetsurou says. Then he remembers that Kageyama and Hinata flew him here. It saved a lot of time, but it definitely won’t work for the return trip with two extra people in their company. “Are you okay to walk?”

He doesn’t know how much strength she has in her current state, but dammit, he’s alive and she’s alive and Tsukishima’s alive and Kenma’s going to be okay. He’s going to carry Kasumi on his back and carry her to their happy ending if he has to.

Kasumi looks at him for a moment with her brows furrowed, confused, and then she smiles. “Oh, I have so much I can finally tell you. And show you.”

She waves her hand in a circle in front of herself. Blue magic sparks at her fingers, and then a bright, swirly _something_ appears before them.

“A portal,” Kasumi says, helpfully.

Tetsurou’s jaw drops. “You can do that?”

“I just did,” she says. “Let’s go.”

“Kageyama, let’s go, too!” Hinata says.

Kageyama grunts.

Tetsurou glances back at Tsukishima. He nods, so Tetsurou draws in a breath and steps into the shimmering blue.

Going through the portal doesn’t feel much different from being teleported by the Babylon candle: a split-second feeling of free-falling, and then he’s at his destination. On the other side, Tetsurou is greeted by surprised shouts, and he lets out one of his own when he sees who’s waiting for them. They’ve emerged by the Wall on Tsukishima’s side, and there, leaning against the old stone bricks, are Yaku and Kenma.

They both stare at Kasumi, mouths hanging open in shock.

“Mom?” Kenma says, faintly.

Kasumi hugs him. “Kenma, I’ve missed you so much. I’m so sorry.”

“Mom,” Kenma says again. He wraps his arms tight around her.

“Well,” Yaku says, “I think we’ve defused Kenma.”

“Defused?” Tetsurou asks.

“Oh man, he was pissed at you.”

“Hold on.” Kenma pulls out of Kasumi’s hug to glare at Tetsurou. “I’m definitely still pissed. You ran off for, like, two weeks and then came back and then ran off _again_.”

“He tried to go after you,” Yaku says. “I had to physically hold him back. We compromised.”

“What?” Tetsurou grins. “Kenma actually wanted to go somewhere?”

Kenma huffs. “You’re not the only person in the world who worries, you know. I’m worried about you, too. Are you okay? Where did you find Mom? And who are they?” He nods towards Tsukishima and the others but doesn’t look at them directly, and Tetsurou can tell he’s nervous.

“I’m okay now,” Tetsurou says. “We’re all okay. It’s… a long story, and Auntie needs to fill in a lot of blanks for me, but for now, this is Kageyama and Hinata.” Hinata waves and Kageyama nods. “They’re skyfolk. And this is Tsukishima Kei.” Tetsurou clears his throat. “The star.”

Tsukishima rubs the back of his head, looking embarrassed, but Kenma’s attention seems to be caught on Kageyama and Hinata and their arched wings.

“Skyfolk.” Kenma stares at them, wide-eyed. Hinata tilts his head and stares back curiously.

Tetsurou catches Tsukishima’s eye and grins.

“I said this is Tsukishima,” Tetsurou says. “The star. He’s here to help you.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Uh,” Tetsurou says. “So should we do this right now, or… I don’t know, do you need to do something first or… anything?”

Tsukishima’s cough sounds suspiciously like a laugh. “Now is fine.” He looks at Kenma and inclines his head. “May I?”

Kenma nods. “Okay.”

Tsukishima takes a step forward, and Kenma moves to meet him. Tsukishima leans down and presses his lips to Kenma’s forehead.

“Oh,” Kenma says.

Tsukishima pulls away.

It’s honestly pretty anticlimactic. Tetsurou is fuzzy on the finer details of when Tsukishima saved him from the brink of death, but he swears there were magical golden lights involved, or at least, like, magical golden sparkles.

“You don’t look any different,” he says to Kenma.

“I don’t feel very different,” Kenma says. “But something’s different, all the same.”

“I think you’ve got a bit of color back in your cheeks,” Yaku says.

“Huh,” Tetsurou says.

Kasumi pets Kenma’s hair. “You’re gonna be just fine now, honey.”

“His body is probably still weak, but the illness is no longer be there.” Tsukishima nods at Kenma. “You should make a full recovery.”

Tsukishima and Kasumi’s confidence put Tetsurou at ease, and he smirks at Kenma.

“If you take care of yourself,” Tetsurou says. “That means eating properly—”

“Not staying up ridiculously late—” Yaku adds.

Kasumi sighs. “Oh, honey, do you still stay up all night reading?”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Kenma says. “Thank you, Tsukishima.”

“Of course. You should know—”

“Tsukishima, you’re so cool!”

Hinata jumps between them, facing Tsukishima, and Kenma sputters at the faceful of feathers.

“Ugh, you haven’t left yet?” Tsukishima says.

Kageyama shrugs. “Just making sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” Tsukishima says. He hesitates, then makes a quiet groan of pained reluctance, then says, in a tight voice, “Thank you for coming to find me.”

“Ooh, a thank you from Tsukishima?” Hinata grins from ear to ear. “I’ll never forget this moment.”

“And you’ll never let me forget it, I’m sure,” Tsukishima says. “Now please leave.”

“You sure you don’t need help getting back to the Court of Stars?”

Oh. Right. Tetsurou tries to breathe out normally, but it comes out shaky. Now that Kenma’s all better, maybe Tsukishima will want to go home.

“No,” Tsukishima says. “I’ll find a Babylon candle and go home eventually, but I think I’ll stick around down here for a bit.”

He looks at Tetsurou. Tetsurou’s eyes sting, from his preemptive assumption that Tsukishima would leave him or his relief that he apparently wants to stay, he’s not sure. He smiles, small and hopeful. Tsukishima loves him, and he wants to stay with him.

“Whatever, fine,” Kageyama says. “I’m getting restless being out of the Sky Realm anyway. Hinata, ready?”

“Huh? Oh, okay!” Hinata waves. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Kageyama and I visit sometimes!”

“Why do we have to do that?”

“Because—!”

They take off, bickering.

Tsukishima sighs and turns away. Kenma stares after them, though, his eyes wide, and when Tetsurou notices, he rubs the top of Kenma’s head with his fist.

“You’re actually interested in something?” he says. “Not that I can blame you, this world is amazing.”

Kenma looks away. “I’m not interested,” he mutters.

Tetsurou laughs, and he and Kasumi exchange knowing smiles.

“Wait,” Kenma says. He turns to Tsukishima. “Earlier, what were you about to say?”

“Oh,” Tsukishima says. “Your… Well, your illness. It was magic. A curse.”

Kenma’s mouth parts, but no words come out. Tetsurou’s feeling pretty lost for words himself.

Kasumi sighs. “I can explain this one. That witch you fought, Oikawa, he was interested in my work on long-range magic. He was specifically interested in the possibility of inter-planar magic. When I realized what he was after, I refused to help him. He… Well, he threatened to curse my firstborn.”

Tetsurou raises both eyebrows, and Kasumi catches his expression.

“I know. I didn’t believe him either. In the end my husband and I ran away because we feared for our own lives, not a nonexistent child’s. I knew Oikawa would never follow us beyond the Wall, where magic cannot function and he would be forced to age and die as a mortal. We thought we were safe, but when we had Kenma… It turns out Oikawa did curse me. It must have mutated somehow to persist beyond the Wall. I’m sure it didn’t manifest as Oikawa intended. Anyway, after the break appeared in the Wall…”

Tetsurou wraps his arm around Kasumi’s shoulders and squeezes. “You don’t have to say anymore.”

After all, it’s easy enough to guess: After the break appeared in the wall, Kasumi and her husband decided to find a way to cure Kenma. Maybe Oikawa found them, or maybe they were looking for Oikawa. Either way, Oikawa captured them, and only one of them made it back alive.

“It’s over now,” Tetsurou says. “Everyone’s okay.”

Kenma comes in for a group hug, and Kasumi closes her eyes.

“Yes,” she says. “Everything will be better now.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay,” Yaku says. “I guess you guys will all be staying on this side?”

“Ah,” Tetsurou says. “Well…” He rubs the back of his neck and looks at Kenma. He wants to stay, of course. He wants to stay with Tsukishima, and Tsukishima can’t cross to the other side of the Wall, but he’s not sure what Kenma wants.

“Seriously?” Kenma says. “You’ve fussed over me all these years, and you even went and risked your life for me, and now that everything’s finally okay, you’re still worried?”

“I—”

“I was sick, but I’m not totally helpless, you know. And I’m better now. I’ll get better. You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I don’t need you anymore.”

Tetsurou can’t help but flinch, because that hurts. It’s the truth, maybe even kinder than the truth, because if they’re being honest, Tetsurou isn’t sure Kenma ever needed him, not really. It was Tetsurou who needed to be needed by him, needed to have someone he could take care of, to feel like he had a place in his responsibility.

Kenma’s eyes soften. “Obviously I still want you in my life. You’re my best friend, and I love you. But that’s why I want you to do something for yourself. What do you want to do?”

“I… I want…” Tetsurou swallows. He looks between Tsukishima and Kenma. Tsukishima’s eyebrow is raised in apparent amusement; Kenma’s is ticking in impatience.

“I want to be with Tsukishima,” he says finally.

“Then be with him,” Kenma says.

“I will,” Tetsurou says. “If he’ll have me.”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes, like it shouldn’t even be a question, but Tetsurou just wanted to make sure. “Of course.”

“Honestly, I knew you’d fall in love with the world on the other side of the Wall the moment you told me you were going,” Yaku says.

“Hey, wait,” Tetsurou says. “You’ve been to this side, too. You met Lev. Why didn’t you stay?”

“It was tempting.” Yaku shrugs. “But my parents needed me, and there was you and Kenma, too. Especially after…” His eyes flit to Kasumi and then awkwardly jump back to Tetsurou.

“Whoa, you’re a really considerate guy, Yaku, did you know that?” Tetsurou asks.

Yaku punches Tetsurou on the arm. “Of course I know that!”

“You could still visit sometimes, though,” Tetsurou says. “Lev sounded like he really likes you.”

“Yeah,” Yaku says, and he’s blushing a little. “Maybe sometimes.”

“What about you, Kenma?” Tetsurou asks. “I still want you in my life, too.”

“Well, you know… This place seems interesting.”

Tetsurou smiles. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

“Yes,” Kasumi says. “I can finally show you my world, where I grew up, my favorite places, everything.”

Kenma makes the same pinched face he makes when Tetsurou tells him they should go outside. “Well, so long as we don’t do it in a rush. And I can check out all the bookstores we pass by.”

Tetsurou and Kasumi laugh, and Yaku and Kei smile.

“We can do whatever you want now,” Kasumi promises.

***

There’s a lot to figure out, but it’s still fairly early in the day, and Kenma suggests that they go to the village together so Yaku can see Lev. Tetsurou makes another huge fuss about Kenma wanting to go somewhere, which Kenma pointedly ignores, and then Tetsurou requests a minute to have a word with Tsukishima before they go.

Tetsurou pulls him several feet away. “You’re beautiful and amazing and I love you.”

“I—where did that come from?” Tsukishima asks.

“Just wanted to say it,” Tetsurou says. “We’ve been with company since I saw you again, so I haven’t been able to fully express myself. You’re, like, incomprehensibly amazing. I can’t believe someone like you actually likes _me_ —”

“Kuroo—”

He sighs, puts a lid on the feelings spilling out and forces himself to get to the point. “What I really wanted to say is, I’m happy you want to stay with me, and I’m just sorry that I won’t be able to keep you company for long before you go home again.”

Tsukishima stares at him.

“When I go back home,” he says, slowly, “I was intending to take you with me. I thought you would want that?”

Tetsurou doesn’t know why Tsukishima is staring at him like he’s missing something; he’s pretty sure Tsukishima is the one that isn’t making sense here.

“What? Well, yeah, I’d love to see your home, but I thought you said mortals couldn’t go to the Court of Stars.”

“You really don’t understand how I was able to save you and heal Kenma?”

“Uhh…” Not really, to be honest. He just assumed that Tsukishima had found some way to channel his powers without, like… dying. “Stars have healing magic?”

Tsukishima shakes his head, but his smile is fond. “ _No one can live forever, except for they who possess the heart of a star_. Right?”

“Yeah, that’s what Bokuto told me, but—”

“I love you and was able to save you for it. I love you and you love Kenma, and through that I was able to save him.”

Tetsurou blinks. The pieces are there, but he can’t quite fit them together.

Tsukishima reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out the music box. Tetsurou had almost forgotten it in all the chaos, but seeing it now makes his heart swell with gentle emotion. When Tetsurou reaches out to take it, Tsukishima rests his hand over Tetsurou’s.

“My heart is yours,” he says, soft. “Completely.”

“Oh,” Tetsurou breathes. “ _Oh_. Well, mine is yours, too, if it’s worth anything. I know I don’t have any magic or anything special like that—”

Tsukishima kisses him. “It’s worth the world to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much for reading! This is the first long fic I've finished in quite a while, and I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Wishing you all a happy new year! <3
> 
> // [twitter](https://twitter.com/qorktree)


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